Bridge to Terabithia: The Lost Journeys
by Mark R. Whitten
Summary: After the events of the movie, Leslie Burke lives on in the memories of those who loved her and on a farm in North Carolina. She doesn't remember who she is, but strange dreams of a boy she can't recall compell her to find out. Please, Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 

She didn't remember who she was. That was the worst part. It wasn't the fact that she had woken up in a strange bed, in a strange place, her head throbbing in pain, unsure as to whether or not she would live. That part she didn't mind. It was the complete and total ignorance of who she was that bothered her; she didn't even know her own name.

While she didn't know who she was, she at least knew who they had told her she was: Annabelle Derth, ten years old. Possessing short blond hair and blue-green eyes, she was the daughter of David and Christina Derth, who had both died two years earlier, although she didn't really remember anything about them either.

Since their passing, Annabelle had come to live on her Grandmother's farm. It was a beautiful place with open fields, grasslands full of wild flowers, and even a stable for raising horses. The people working there were the best kind; they were sweet and generous, respectful and polite. There was not one among them who did not have a kind word to say or a tip of their hat to offer her when she walked by, and they were always willing to let her help them with the chores, as long as she said she was feeling up to it.

It was good to know that, although she couldn't remember who she was, there were others who did, and that they loved her.

But every time she looked into the mirror, all she saw was a stranger staring back at her.

A girl she didn't know.

A face she couldn't remember.

The only thing she did remember was the river. That was something she couldn't forget, no matter how hard she tried.

The water had been everywhere, the fierce currents of the raging rapids swiftly carrying her away from any life that she had previously known.

Intermittently, she had been released from the river's iron grip long enough to breach the surface of the water and gulp a breath of air, before the overwhelming power of the relentless currents had pulled her under again.

She didn't know how long she had battled the river for her life's breath, but the doctor said that it might have been days. She doubted that it had been that long; Anna didn't honestly believe that she, nor anyone else for that matter, could possibly survive for that long in such an unforgivable torrent. That she had was said to have been a miracle.

She didn't doubt that it was.

While she couldn't recall the exact details of her rescue, the story had been told to her often enough. A young farmhand—Tom was his name—had been fishing on the banks of the river, when he had noticed her body floating in the currents.

Without hesitation, he had dived into the water and single-handedly pulled her out of the river. After gently laying her on the soft grasses near the shore, he had then done something even more spectacular: He had given her the breath of life.

Her Grandmother had sent people out looking for her when she turned up missing, and it was by sheer luck that Tom had found Anna and saved her life.

When Anna had awoken, she had found herself in a soft bed, dry, warm and safe. Her head ached something awful and she had drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed like an eternity. Sometimes, when she had been delirious, thinking she was back in the river, she had heard the comforting words of her Grandmother whispering to her that everything was alright, and that she was safe here. While she didn't know where 'here' was, and she didn't recognize the source of the voice, she was at least grateful for the words.

All that had happened about six weeks ago, and while her body had recovered, her mind had remained trapped in the fog of ignorance which shrouded the memories of any kind of past, good or bad, from her current thoughts.

Even now, as she stared into the antique mirror and saw the face of the girl she didn't know staring back at her, she didn't have even the slightest clue as to who she had been.

She knew that she should, she just couldn't remember. Sitting there, in her floral-print nightgown, she thought that she should at least be able to remember her parents.

But she couldn't.

That was what vexed her the most: that she couldn't even remember her most cherished relatives.

Without intending it, the question that was always on her mind spilled from her mouth like water from a fountain.

"Who are you?"

She knew she was being silly. The reflection could tell her no more about herself then she already knew.

A gentle knock came at the door, followed by the voice of the old woman.

"Anna? Anna, dear, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Grandma," she said. "I'm just getting dressed."

"Okay, dear. Don't take too long or your breakfast will get cold," she called through the old wooden door. "Okay," Anna called back.

Anna could hear the old woman shuffle back down the hall.

The room was quiet once again. Anna picked up the antique hairbrush and combed her hair. The brush was old-fashioned, as was everything else in the house; the walls, the furniture, even her clothes. Not that she minded, but sometimes Anna wished that there were a few more modern things for her to wear. She wasn't allowed in school; they said they wanted her memory to return before she started taking classes again. Besides, it was summer and there were no school classes during summer vacation.

The farm was big and isolated from the surrounding countryside by mountains and streams, which Anna made a point of avoiding. She had no desire to go on another swimming adventure. Of course, the isolation meant that there weren't any other children around. Aside from the memory loss, that fact bothered her more than anything.

Everyone on the farm was nice to her, but they were all adults and most of them had too much work to do to spend time playing with her.

As she thought about what it must be like to have a friend her own age, her nose caught the pleasant aromas of the promised breakfast which had made their way upstairs from the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled in eager anticipation as she set down the brush and changed into her dress. She was famished.

As she walked downstairs, her dress flowing freely around her, it occurred to her that while the dress was a good fit, it just didn't seem to suit her—not that she was ungrateful for it. It was a very beautiful dress, with a pretty crimson hue and white lace trim. They had told her that she looked lovely in it, and she didn't disagree with them.

It was just that she had felt the most comfortable in her old clothes, the ones she had arrived in. Those clothes were drying on the laundry line now; she had seen them through the window of her bedroom.

It occurred to her that Tom might have noticed them as well. She hoped to goodness that he hadn't seen her panties hanging on the line, too.

At the thought of Tom seeing her underwear, an image of her wearing them in front of him suddenly came into her mind. She thought that she might die from embarrassment at the mere thought of him seeing her like that.

Shaking her head to banish the unwanted thoughts, Anna walked into the dining room and saw that breakfast was already served.

The table was filled with plates of ham, bacon, eggs, sausage, toast, home fries, fruit, and a large pitcher of orange juice. Her plate was already filled with eggs, fruit and a piece of toast; no bacon, sausage or ham, though.

Living on the farm and having cared for the animals, Anna had come to revile eating meat. Every time she looked at it she felt sick, like she was staring at the remains of a good friend. Her Grandmother respected her feelings and had placed those dishes far away from Anna's side of the table.

As she took her seat, she looked at the other farmhands eating breakfast and noticed that Tom was missing. Just as she was about to ask where he was, the swing door to the kitchen opened and he appeared, carrying a plate full of muffins and a pitcher of milk.

"Well, good morning, Ann," he said good-naturedly as he set down the muffin plate.

Anna was smiling at him as she returned the greeting. He took her empty glass and filled it for her, setting the milk down in front of her before taking his seat and serving himself.

She liked the way he always shortened her name to 'Ann'; no one else would, which made it seem all the more special to her when he did.

Tom adored children; he had been a teacher, but had come to work on the farm over the summer to help out Mrs. Vanderholt, who was a friend of his aunt's. Anna thought it very noble of him to help out the friend of a family member in need. He said that Anna was like the kid-sister he had always wanted and that she was a gift from God. That had made her smile more than anything she could remember.

As Anna picked up the butter knife and began buttering her toast, the plate of muffins appeared under her nose. Tom was holding it for her.

"Muffin?" he asked.

She smiled and thanked him as she daintily accepted one of the smaller ones.

As he set the plate aside, and took one of the larger muffins for himself, he asked if she had slept well. She told him she had, leaving out any mention of the strange dreams she had been having.

"That's good," he said. "Nothing like a good night's sleep to give you energy for the day ahead."

Most people found Tom's good natured smile and sage advice off-putting; they assumed he wanted something. Anna saw it for what it was, however: simple kindness.

When they had gone into town, two days before to pick up supplies, Tom had gone into the general store while she had waited out by the car.

When he came out, his big arms carrying supplies, he stopped at the back of the car and tossed her a candy bar he had bought for her. She'd caught it and saw that it was her favorite. He had remembered her mentioning it a few weeks ago.

"You said you like them," he explained while loading the groceries into the car. "I hope it's the right kind."

She suspected that he was being modest and that he knew that it was the kind she liked.

"Yes, it is. Thanks, Tom," she had said.

"No problem." He had responded as he closed the then full trunk.

It seemed strange to her, now, as she watched him buttering his muffin, that he wasn't already married. She thought that a man like him would have a wife; or at least a girlfriend.

"So," Grandma Vanderholt said into the quiet morning, "What are your plans for today?"

"Well," Tom said as he picked up his muffin, "I was planning on repainting the old tool shed out back." He looked at Anna and smiled. "I could use some help with that, if you're interested."

Anna smiled back. "I'd love to help."

Painting was something Anna loved to do. Not that she disliked any of her other chores; she just enjoyed painting for some reason. When she had first gotten well and had started helping out around the house, she had begun by helping to repaint an old wooden cupboard for her Grandmother. She remembered the day she had offered to help.

Newspapers had been spread on the floor and Tom was in the process of moving the large old cupboard into the center of the room.

Anna remembered that when she had picked up the paintbrush, she had paused and was overcome with a strange and confusing sensation. Tom had asked her what was wrong.

"Nothing," she had said. "It's just that I got this weird feeling."

"What kind of feeling," Tom had asked, as he moved the cupboard onto the newspaper.

"I don't know," Anna had replied. "I just got the sudden urge to dance."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

As the day wore on, Anna felt her strength waning. Having spent all morning painting the shed had sapped her strength; the energy that the big breakfast had provided was all but gone.

It hadn't helped that Tom had turned the whole thing into a race. He had wanted to see who could get their side of the shed painted first, and, after goading, teasing and taunting her, Anna had accepted. It had been a close competition, but in the end, Anna had pulled out a victory.

Tom had said that the sun was in his eyes, and that he would have won if he hadn't been distracted. Anna had called him a "big baby" and told him that the sun had been in her eyes too, so it was more than fair and he should "quit whining." Tom had then made a face at her and went to off to mend the fence. Anna realized that, despite being well into his thirties, Tom could be very childish sometimes.

But as he walked away, Anna thought that she could see him smiling.

She suspected that he had let her win, and that knowledge had made her victory seem very hollow.

She didn't tell him that though; she didn't want to hurt his feelings when he was only trying to be nice.

As she wiped the sweat from her brow, it occurred to her that this day was unusually hot, especially in the chicken coop. Most days on the farm had been warm, but this one was a real scorcher.

On days like this, when the heat was intense and the humidity unbearable, she would imagine that she was not a guest of the farm, eager to help, but a slave pressed into service against her will.

She pictured herself as a lonely orphan, dressed in filthy rags, her ankles bound with shackles so she couldn't run away; a helpless slave under the lash.

In her mind, her grandmother filled the role of the evil wicked Witch who had imprisoned her, and Tom was the noble prince trapped as the Witch's husband-to-be, having been seduced by her evil spell.

Of course, the chicken coop wasn't a chicken coop at all, but was, in fact, a very dangerous cave, where the wicked Witch kept her most monstrous creatures known as hen-beasts.

Hen-beasts produced great treasures for their masters, but they were never really inclined to give them up without a fight. Anyone trying to take a treasure from a hen-beast often lost an eye—if not their life. The wicked Witch desired them greatly, but instead of risking her own life, she had sent in her slave to get the treasures for her.

Many of the other slaves had sustained life-threatning injuries while performing this or some other task for the wicked Witch and she never seemed to care if they were maimed, scratched, dimembered, burned or otherwise injured, just so long as she got what she wanted. After all, the Witch could always acquire more slaves to replace the ones she lost, if she deemed it necessary.

Such thoughts made the day go by faster and made the heat seem less intense, the humidity less oppressive, and it surprised Anna to learn that her imagination was so vivid; she could practically hear the sound of her chains rattling as she walked.

Whenever Anna thought of herself as the helpless orphan-slave, she would sing a little song to lift her "enslaved spirit."

As she reached under the hen-beasts to get the priceless egg-treasures she had come to collect, she sang another verse of her freedom song:

_Someday, I'm finally gonna let go,_

_I know there's a better way,_

_I wanna know what's over that rainbow,_

_I'm gonna get outta here some-day…_

_Some-day…_

For some reason, every time she sang that song she found herself thinking about the strange boy from her dreams. She thought that maybe they had sung the song together, that maybe she had taught it to him, or that maybe he had taught it to her.

It occurred to Anna that he might have been a friend she had when she still lived with her parents, back when they were still alive. She had dreamed of him every night for weeks now, and, although she had memorized every detail of his freckled face, she still knew as little about him as she knew about herself; she didn't even know his name.

Her Grandmother hadn't remembered him when Anna spoke of him, either. Maybe he didn't exist at all. Maybe Anna never had any friends at all. Maybe she just dreamed him up because she was lonely. Maybe she should just get her head out of the clouds and do as she was told; the wicked Witch didn't allow much time for idle daydreaming.

As she stooped to collect the last egg from the last hen, her Grandmother's voice rang out across the farm. "Anna! Anna, dear, come inside and have some lunch!"

"Coming," was all Anna said as she took the last egg-treasure from the hen-beast and then trudged off to do the bidding of the evil wicked Witch, the sound of her chains rattling as she walked being the only noise she could hear over the moaning of the other slaves as they went about their dangerous, tedious and seemingly endless labor.

Lunch was delicious: a bowl of tomato soup, followed by a tuna fish sandwich with a side of potato chips and a few sweet pickles. Tuna fish didn't bother Anna like ham and bacon did because there weren't any fish on the farm.

As she drank down the last of her milk and stood up to leave, it occurred to her that her clothes were probably dry by now. Handing her empty plate and glass off to her grandmother, Anna walked out the back door and headed toward the clothes line.

Squeezing the material between her fingers, she realized that her blue jeans were mostly dry, but were still too damp to be worn. Her white T-shirt was almost completely dry, as was the blue sleeveless over-shirt with the Pegasus symbol on the front.

But her red hooded coat was completely damp.

Anna sighed. She supposed that she would have to wait until tomorrow to change back into her old clothes; boy, how she missed wearing them.

As she turned to leave, she noticed that Tom had followed her into the backyard. He was standing a good distance away, with his arms folded, watching her.

With a blush that made her face as red as the dress she was wearing, she realized that her pink cotton underpants were on the line, too, flapping in the breeze like a flag waving in the wind. It seemed to Anna like they were trying to get his attention, in a deliberate attempt to embarrass her; no doubt because of a spell cast on them by the evil wicked witch.

"_That old crone does enjoy her petty torments,"_ Anna thought ruefully. She casually stepped in front of the clothesline to block Tom's view, but she was sure that he had seen them.

As Tom approached, and her blushing intensified, she tried not to let him know what she was doing.

"Oh, um, hi, Tom," she said with a nervous smile. "What's going on?"

"That's what I was going to ask," Tom replied as he stopped in front of her. "What are you doing out here? The laundry's not ready to be folded, yet."

Anna realized that he hadn't noticed her movements, so she relaxed.

"Oh, I was just, um…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Wishing you could change back into your old clothes?"

Anna was shocked. How could he have known what she was thinking? Then she realized that she must have done a lousy job of hiding her sentiments.

"Yeah, kind of," she said, feeling foolish. Suddenly, she realized something.

"Tom, please don't tell Grandma," she begged. "I don't want her to think that I don't like the dress she gave me to wear."

"Don't' worry," Tom said. "I'll forget everything I saw today."

"Thanks, Tom," she said.

"No problem," Tom replied, before patting her shoulder and starting back toward the house.

"Oh, and, if you want," he said, as a whimsical smile played across his face, "I'll even forget that I saw your underpants hanging on the line."

Tom continued on his way back toward the house and while Anna was sure that he would keep his promise and not tell her grandmother about the clothes, she was also sure that he would never forget her painful blushing.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next day was as hot as any had been. Anna's clothes were finally dry and she had been relieved to finally be allowed to change back into them. Tom had kept his word and had not told Mrs. Vanderholt about Anna's discomfort in wearing the dress. Tom had also kept his promise about their trip and took Anna down to the river so they could go fishing together. Anna had been nervous about returning to the river which had almost claimed her life, but Tom had told her that he would be there with her and that she needn't be afraid.

"You have to face your fears," he had said while loading a couple fishing poles into the back of his truck, "or your fear will own you forever."

Anna couldn't argue with such wise advice; she truly didn't want to spend the rest of her life living in fear of the river.

"Alright," she had said. "But I'm not going in the water."

Tom had nodded that it was acceptable and let Anna take things at her own pace. She wasn't sure how, but, by mid-day, he had convinced her to go ankle-deep into the water.

As they cast out their lines—Anna's much farther than Tom's—he asked a very strange question of her. "Anna," he said, "how come you're so good at this kind of stuff?"

"What kind of stuff?" she asked.

"You know fishing, painting, and stuff like that. You're pretty good at it—for a girl."

"I don't know," she admitted, then remarked, "The same reason I'm so cool—for a girl."

Tom smiled and cast out his line. She noticed that his casting was on mark.

"You're pretty good at this stuff too," she said, smirking. "For a boy."

Tom laughed. "Okay, okay, truce," he said.

It seemed strange to her then, that Anna had the sudden feeling known as Deja-Vu—the feeling you get like you've done something before. She couldn't imagine why she felt this way now.

She thought maybe she had gone fishing before, maybe with her mother or her father.

She still couldn't remember either of them. She didn't mention her feelings to Tom though. She didn't really want to talk about them at that moment; she just wanted to fish.

They spent the entire day at the river, Tom catching an occasional trout and Anna landing catfish after catfish. Since catfish can be dangerous, Tom took out the hooks for her and tossed the flopping fish back into the river, before going back to his own fishing.

It felt good to have escaped the clutches of the wicked witch, but Anna knew that they would soon be found, for no one ever escaped the witch for long.

Anna knew that, soon enough, she would be back on the farm, her tender backside tasting the bitter sting of the lash, and Tom would be the witch's willing puppet again.

Anna considered building a raft and the two of them sailing down the river to the sea; but she didn't want to chance drowning again. As much as she feared the wrath of the wicked witch, she feared the river's wrath even more.

Besides, the witch probably already knew where they were and had sent her servants to spy on them. Anna could practically hear them moving about in the bushes. For all she knew, the witch herself was already on her way to reclaim the two of them, personally.

Their situation seemed hopeless. The two of them were doomed to be in the service of Mistress Vanderholt forever. And, on top of everything else, Anna still had no idea who she was; the spell the witch had cast on her kept even her own identity from her mind.

As Anna watched the birds flying across the sky, she wondered what it must be like to be free—to have no attachments to anyone. Her 'freedom' from attachment was forced, and it had come with a heavy price.

In spite of everything Tom had her grandmother had done for her, she still felt out of place—like she just didn't belong on the farm.

Tom must have noticed her melancholy, because as soon as she thought about it, he asked her what was wrong.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just don't feel like I belong here. I feel like I'm supposed to be somewhere else."

"You mean you want to go home, back to the farm?"

She shook her head. "No. I mean I don't feel at home on the farm; or anywhere else for that matter."

Tom cast out his line again. "Well, you've lost your memory. It's only natural to be feeling a little lost, yourself."

Anna gave up. Tom just didn't understand what she was going through. How could he? He knew exactly who he was, down to the last detail while she didn't even remember her own parents. She realized something, then.

"Tom, why aren't there any pictures of me in the house?"

Tom stared in silence for a moment before answering.

"There was a fire, a long time ago. A few people died, including your parents. All your family photos were lost in the blaze."

"Did you know them? My parents, I mean."

"Yes, I did," he said, his eyes brimming with tears. "They were the nicest people I ever knew."

All this time she had been jealous of Tom. Now, as she watched the tears stream down his face, his noble features wracked with sorrow, for the first time in a long time, Anna was grateful that she didn't have any memories of her own.

She wanted to ask him more about what her parents were like, about who they were, but she didn't want to disturb him; he seemed lost in the haze of his memories.

It was late afternoon by the time they made it home. Anna thought that she must have caught a dozen fish and Tom had caught every one in the river that she didn't catch. The sun was more than halfway to setting when they walked into the house.

Tom set down the fishing poles and tackle box near the door. "Hello?" he called out. "Mrs. Vanderholt?"

No one answered.

"Grandma?" Anna called. "We're home!"

She began walking through the house.

"Tom slipped and fell in the river! It was great! He hooked himself with his own fishing line!"

Tom made a face at her she didn't notice and looked around for Mrs. Vanderholt.

They couldn't find her anywhere. No one was home. Then they looked in the kitchen.

There was a note on the table. It looked like someone had written it in a hurry.

_Tom, come quick. Hospital. Emergency. Bring Anna._

The waiting room was cold and quiet as a grave. It was an hour before anyone told them what had happened. It wasn't good. Anna's grandmother had had a heart-attack and they didn't think she would live. Anna could feel her heart breaking as she collapsed in tears, falling into Tom's arms, sobbing against his chest in anguish at knowing that she was about to lose the only relative she had left to her.

It was all so unfair. First Anna had lost her parents, and then she had lost her memories, and now she was going to lose her Grandmother as well. She didn't think she could take it. If it weren't for Tom, she wouldn't know what she would do.

Tom said he would look after her now, that he wouldn't let them put her into foster care. She was grateful for that. She didn't like the idea of being put into another strange place, not after everything that she had already been through.

After a few minutes of grieving, she was let in to her Grandmother's room to say goodbye.

Grandma Vanderholt was barely breathing as Anna and Tom slipped silently into her room. She opened her eyes at the sound of Anna's voice.

"Anna," she breathed, "oh, Anna, I was so worried. You were so late coming home that I thought you might have gotten hurt." She squeezed Anna's hand.

"I'm here now, Grandma. I'm right here," Anna cried, as she blinked away the tears.

"Tom," Mrs. Vanderholt whispered, "Take her away from here. I don't want my granddaughter to see my death."

Tom began leading her away. Anna reluctantly complied, but not before giving her grandmother a kiss on the check and whispering a final goodbye to her.

Tom asked her to wait in the hall as Mrs. Vanderholt called him back for a moment.

"Tom," she sighed, as he kneeled at her bedside.

"Yes, Mrs. Vanderholt?"

"Tell her the truth."

Tom was stunned. "You mean, you know? You know that—"

"She's not my Granddaughter? Yes, Tom, I know. I've always known."

"But, if you knew then… why?"

"Because you wanted to help me and I didn't want you to think I wasn't happy. So I played along with your little game," she wheezed. "But the game must end, now, Tom. She must know the truth. Tell her, Tom. Tell her the truth. Tell her that we don't know who she really is or where she really came from."

"Alright, Mrs. Vanderholt," Tom said. "If that is your wish, then I will honor it."

"Thank you, Tom, thank you" she whispered as she fell into a deep from which she was never to awaken again.

Anna sat quietly, watching as the mover's continued to cart away furniture. It had only been a week since her Grandmother's funeral and everything seemed to be falling apart.

The bank had repossessed the farm and the possessions that hadn't been donated to charity were being sold off to pay her debts. There were quite more than a few expenses.

Most of the farmhands had left to find work elsewhere. Anna had been profoundly hurt to discover that everyone would just up and leave as soon as things got tough. They seemed to her like nothing so much as hairy vultures departing a corpse after having had their fill, leaving behind the bones of the old farmhouse to bleach in the sun.

Tom had told her not to blame them, that they had to look out for themselves, and that they couldn't stay on because they didn't own the farm. After awhile, Anna realized that he was right. She still didn't like the feeling of abandonment, though; she had considered every one of those people her friends. Now, just like her grandmother, they were gone.

Anna had to get up so the movers could lift the antique rocking chair she had been sitting in. As they did so, Anna snatched up her grandmother's shall that she had been so fond of wearing; it was all she had left to remember her by. She wrapped it around her shoulders and watched as the last of her grandmother's possessions were carted away.

Tom came down the stairs carrying a suitcase filled with the dresses her grandmother had left to her, after the movers had departed in their truck. He silently stepped up next to Anna and put a hand on her shoulder in sympathy

"Ready to go," he asked, solemnly. Anna nodded, too broken-hearted to speak.

Tom gently took her arm and led her out the door of the farmhouse for the last time, away from the only home she could remember, away from this place of broken dreams.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The car trip was long and quiet. Neither Anna nor Tom felt much like talking; they were both too sad for words. As they made their way north, stopping at diners and restaurants along the way, Anna sensed that there was something that Tom wanted to tell her. She couldn't imagine what it could be, but she didn't want to pressure him, so she just sat quietly in the car watching the trees and houses pass by as they made their way to their new home.

As they turned down an old dirt road, an old pickup truck followed their lead, but kept going as they took another turn off the dirt road and into a driveway shaded by trees.

As they pulled into the driveway between the immense oaks, Annabelle caught sight of the house. It was a large building, not unlike the homestead, and the image conjured a few unexpected memories of her recent past. Anna had to fight to hold back the tears.

A rotund woman, in a flower-print dress, about Tom's age, walked out onto the porch, then, smiling as she waved at them.

"Who is that," Anna asked.

"That's my sister, Ann Marie. We'll be staying here with her for a few days while we find a new home."

Ann Marie raced down the steps as Tom parked the car and climbed out. She gave him a big hug before he could take even two steps. Tom bore the hug, a little uncomfortably, and told her how good it was to see her again, too.

As Anna came around from her side of the car, she was greeted by Ann Marie. The hug she was given nearly took the breath from her lungs and gave her a very sudden, very unwanted memory of being swept away in the river's currents, as she was lifted from her feet.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you, Anna!" Ann Marie exclaimed as she squeezed her tight.

"Thank you," was all Anna could manage to say between breaths. Ann Marie then planted a kiss on each of Anna's cheeks, leaving red lipstick prints in stark contrast to her marble-white skin.

Ann Marie let her go and held her at arms length.

"And you're just as pretty as Tom said you are!"

Upon hearing this, Anna could feel herself blush to the point that her complexion almost matched the lipstick-prints. "Tom said that," she asked. "When?"

"Why, on the phone, dear." Ann Marie was taken aback a moment. "Tom always speaks very highly of you whenever he calls."

Tom stood awkwardly for a moment, looking a bit sheepish. Anna realized then, that propriety wasn't one of Ann Marie's strong points. "Well," Ann Marie said into the awkward silence, "It's late, why don't you both come in and we'll all have a nice dinner together?"

"That sounds great," Tom said. He and Anna had been eating nothing but diner-food the past couple of days and a home-cooked meal would be just the thing. As Tom gladly accepted and Anna nodded her eager anticipation, Ann Marie wrapped her arms around both of them and led them inside.

The inside of the house was as splendid as the outside. The entrance opened into a kitchen as bright and as modern as the ones she had seen in magazines and, as Anna looked to the right, the sight she saw took her breath away almost as effectively as had the hug she had received from Ann Marie only moments before.

The opposite wall of the living room was glowing like a fire in the late-afternoon sunlight.

The golden glow of that magnificent sight brought tears to Anna's eyes. She wondered who must have painted it. Whoever it had been wasn't very skilled at applying the paint, but had made the right choice when it came to color. The wall looked almost alive.

Anna wandered into the room as Ann Marie set to serving up the stew she had been making, while Tom went back out to the car to get their things.

As Anna moved into the living room, feeling like she was entering a holy place of beauty, she stared at the walls as if she knew them. She almost felt like she had been here before, but she knew beyond doubt that such a thing was impossible.

Anna was lost for a time in this place of beauty, before Ann Marie's voice stirred her from her revere. "Do you like it," she asked.

"I love it," Anna said, before turning to her and asking, "Did you paint it this way?"

Anna thought it a simple enough question, but when she asked, Ann Marie got the strangest look on her face; like the sadness of a loved one's passing had returned to haunt her memories. "No, dear, I'm afraid I didn't."

She looked like something she'd prefer not to discuss was weighing on her mind and continued by saying, "I asked the realtor about it when I bought the place, and she told me that the people who lived here before me painted it with their daughter." Ann Marie sighed. "They moved out of here shortly after their daughter's death."

"She died?" Anna gasped. Ann Marie nodded. "That's so sad."

Anna suddenly felt very ashamed, as if she was violating some holy sanctuary having come here without having been invited. "What was their daughter's name?" she asked.

Ann Marie thought a moment, trying to recall, as Tom came through the front door, his arms full of luggage. "Hey," he grunted, "Somebody want to give me a hand with these?"

Ann Marie rushed over and took two of the smaller bags from his fingers, while Anna took a larger bag from him and set to the side. "Thanks," Tom panted.

"Well, I think the stew is ready," Ann Marie said. "Let's eat it while it's still hot, and then I'll help you put away your things."

"Thanks," Tom said, as he trudged over to the table and sat down. Anna followed his example and sat down next to him, while Ann Marie served the stew. It was piping hot and delicious, especially with the side of buttered biscuits she had made for this special occasion.

Midway through the meal, Ann Marie continued her habitual lack of propriety and said, "I was so sorry to hear about your Grandmother, Anna."

Anna stopped eating with the spoon halfway to her mouth, as the memory of the loss she had suffered a little more then a week ago resurfaced.

She could hardly keep her tears in, as she nodded and said, "Thank you." Tom laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and shot a fiery scowl at Ann Marie that she didn't seem to notice.

After dinner, Ann Marie did as she said she would and helped them to get settled in. As she was helping Anna put away her clothes, Anna turned and asked the question she had forgotten to repeat earlier. "Ann Marie, the girl who used to live here, the one who died, what was her name?"

Ann Marie thought a moment before answering that she couldn't seem to recall.

"Oh, okay," Anna said, a little disappointed.

"I'll go check on Tom, now that you're settled in, dear," Ann Marie said as she walked out. "My brother tends to get himself into trouble when he's not being watched."

Anna knew the truth of that. She had once caught Tom hanging upside down from a tree by his pant-leg. When she had asked him how he managed to get caught up there, he said that a squirrel had tricked him. Anna had been so amused by this turn of events that she almost hadn't gotten the farmhands to help him get down. Anna smiled at the sudden memory of happier days.

"Alright," she said as Anna Marie closed the door and left her to get some rest.

Anna sat on the bed and yawned. It had been a long day. The sun had just gone down and already she wanted to call it a night. As she reached for her nightdress, she thought about the sad story that Ann Marie had told to her, about how the little girl had died in much the same way that she herself had almost died. Anna considered that, in spite of everything that she had lost, she was lucky to still be alive.

As she changed into her night-clothes and slipped into bed, she suddenly felt very sad for the girl's parents; they must have been heart-broken over their loss. They and she had a connection, she supposed: they had lost their daughter, and Anna had lost her parents. She guessed that they were as sad as she must have been over losing the ones she loved most.

As much as she pitied them, though, she also envied them. At least they could remember their daughter, and they probably had pictures to help them remember her; Anna didn't even have that much.

As the night grew darker, Anna thought about everything she had lost: her parents, her grandmother, even her identity. Her whole life was gone. Anna covered herself with her late grandmother's shall and lay down.

Alone and forgotten, the little orphan-girl silently cried herself to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning was bright and clear. As soon as Anna woke up, she smelled breakfast cooking: flapjacks. As she came downstairs, dressed in her old jeans and blue-shirt outfit, she found Tom and Ann Marie in the kitchen. Tom was already at the table, and Ann Marie was serving up the pancakes with maple syrup and glasses of whole milk.

Anna sat down next to Tom. He was unusually quiet for breakfast. Anna sensed that the thing that he wanted to tell her was on his mind again. She wished he would just come out and say it; the waiting was almost enough to make her lose her appetite.

Almost.

Anna smiled as Ann Marie walked over and placed a big plate of pancakes on the table.

As Anna reached for the pile of flapjacks, she remembered something: she forgot to comb her hair. With sudden embarrassment, she glanced toward a mirror in the corner of the room and saw that her short blond hair was in total disarray. As she stood up to leave, Tom asked her what was wrong.

"Nothing," she said. "I just, uh, forgot something, that's all. I'll be right back," she called, as she raced back upstairs to get her hairbrush.

Ann Marie served up the pancakes, passing a plate to Tom, before serving herself.

"Is she always so scatterbrained?" she asked, quietly, after Anna was gone.

Tom took a bite of pancakes and said, "No. She's just a little flustered from being around me all the time," he said between bites. "I think she has a crush on me."

"Really, Tom?" Ann Marie said, casually. "I can't imagine why."

She smiled at him with a mischievous grin. Tom made a face at her as she took a bite of her homemade pancakes. He was just about to come back at her with a witty retort that he had been saving, when a knock at the door interrupted him.

"That would be the neighbor's, Tom." Ann Marie said, taking a sip of coffee. "Would you mind getting the door? I would, but I made breakfast, after all, and I think that this is the least that you could do to repay me."

Rather than argue with her, and keep the neighbors waiting, Tom stood up and walked to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by a woman holding a platter of cookies.

"Hello," the woman said with a smile. "I'm Mrs. Aarons. I just thought I would stop over and welcome you to the neighborhood."

Tom was about to explain that he didn't actually live in the neighborhood, and that he was just staying with his sister for a few days while they got settled, when Ann Marie interjected.

"Oh, how nice of you,"" she said with a smile, gracefully accepting the plate of cookies. Tom was about to say something, when Ann Marie continued. "We just moved in and we were hoping to meet you. People have said such nice things about you and your family."

"Oh, isn't that nice," said Mrs. Aarons. "I always thought that our neighbors were a little wary of us."

Ann Marie giggled at the little joke and shook her head. "Oh, no, dear. Everyone is always telling me how nice your family is and how much they appreciate living near to you."

Tom was growing impatient with this idle chit-chat. He wanted to get back to his pancakes, so he cut to the point. "Is there anything we can do for you, Mrs. Aarons?"

"Don't be rude, Tom," Ann Marie chided.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Aarons said, "I didn't mean to bother you, it's just that I was on my way to the market and I wanted to drop by and say 'hello' before it got too late in the day."

Ann Marie smiled. "Oh, it's no trouble, dear. Would you like to come in? We just served breakfast, if you're hungry."

"No, thank you," Mrs. Aarons said, as she started to leave. "I really do have to get going. My husband is at work and he left me to do the shopping, as usual, so I'll be gone for awhile. It was nice meeting you, though."

Ann Marie waved as Mrs. Aarons started down the steps. "You too," she called.

"Please come back anytime," she said, before closing the door and returning to the table. She handed Tom the plate of cookies and sat down, just as Anna returned from upstairs, her short blond hair now straight and orderly.

"Who was that, Ann Marie?" she asked, resuming her place at the table.

"That was one of our new neighbors, dear. Mrs. Aarons just wanted to welcome us to the neighborhood."

Anna smiled at the thoughtfulness of small-town folk before taking a big bite of her pancakes. As she had expected, they were delicious.

It was a long, full day for Anna. Ann Marie had taken her shopping for some new clothes, and for some school supplies. Anna had picked out a variety of jeans and other apparel, grateful that she finally had something to wear besides her Grandmother's old-fashioned dresses.

Ann Marie and Anna spent the whole day together, talking, laughing, and swapping their favorite stories about Tom. Anna had some choice tales from their farm adventures, but none she had even came close to his sister's stories about their childhood together.

As they walked through the front door, laughing about their latest tale, their arms full of shopping bags, Tom greeted them, cheerfully.

"How was your day?" he asked, completely oblivious of the fact that they were laughing and joking at his expense.

"Oh, it was wonderful Tom," Ann Marie exclaimed, between fits of laughter. "Anna is just as sweet as you said she was, and we had so much fun together!"

"Ann Marie bought me all kinds of new clothes and school stuff," Anna boasted, while trying to hide her blushing at Ann Marie's comments. "She even bought me a copy of her favorite book!"

Tom smiled and took the bags as he ushered the two over to the couch to rest. They went happily, laughing again, as they hinted at each other with their facial expressions, each a private joke amongst the two.

Tom came back from the kitchen a few minutes later, with a tray full of sandwiches and drinks. They had a wonderful lunch together, Tom still blissfully unaware of their gibes.

As Anna flipped through the pages of Ann Marie's favorite book, Tom kept staring at her from the doorway to the kitchen. Anna knew that he wanted something and she wished that he would just say what it was, or that he would just go take a nap like Ann Marie.

He was beginning to get on her nerves, and just when she was getting to the good part.

As Tom sat down next to her, Anna closed her book and looked him square in the eye. She was determined to get this issue, whatever it was, past her, so she that could continue reading.

Tom smiled at her, then, in a sad sort of way, and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Anna," he said quietly, "I have something I need to tell you."

Anna realized that she couldn't recall a time when she had been more frightened by the look on Tom's face, than she was at that moment.

He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, like he wanted to tell her something, but feared that it would kill her if she knew what it was. The weight of the terrible burden he bore looked as if it were crushing his spirit and breaking his heart.

He couldn't keep it from her any longer, she knew, and at that moment, she deeply regretted her earlier wish to hear what was on his mind.

As his words came forth, without further hesitation, Anna could feel her head spinning.

She felt dizzy.

Tears stung her eyes.

Standing up and backing away from him, she whispered that what he was telling her couldn't be true, that it was impossible.

He said that it was true, then stood and said that he was sorry. He came forward to try to give her a hug of condolence.

She backed away and shouted that he was lying, desperately wishing that she could believe that he was playing some kind of cruel joke on her.

She threw Ann Marie's book on the floor.

And then she was running.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Anna didn't know how long or how far she had run; she only knew that she had run long enough to no longer hear the sounds of other people and to her that was a blessed relief.

Tom had been left in the dust, quite literally, and while Anna couldn't remember the details of her exhausting sprint, she vaguely recalled how she had ended up in the forest, where she had skidded to a halt, standing before the magnificent edifice erected before her.

Tom had told her the truth—or at least what he had claimed was the truth—Anna wasn't sure what to believe anymore. She remembered hearing what he had told her: that her name wasn't really Annabelle Derth. Which meant that she wasn't Mistress Vanderholt's beloved Granddaughter and that her parents, whoever they were, hadn't died in a house fire to the best of Tom's knowledge. All this had come at once and had needed to be repeated to her, twice, before the true nature of what he was telling her had sunk in.

And then she was running.

Anna remembered running down the dirt road, through a gap in a metal fence, across green fields, rolling hills, and, finally, into a deep, dark, secluded forest.

She hadn't known where she was going; she had known only that she had wanted to run until she reached the edge of the world, and then maybe even beyond, if she didn't bother to stop running.

Anna couldn't believe what Tom had told her. As hard as it was to comprehend, it had been even harder to stop crying. Tears had stung her eyes and blurred her vision the whole length of her journey. Only upon having seen the grand structure displayed before her, had Anna finally managed to get her weeping under control.

She stared up at the strange edifice in wonder, gasping to catch her breath and wiping away the tears, so that she could see it clearly. It was a beautiful bridge, its archway and railings made from tree branches that had been tied together with the kind of precision that only commitment and serious dedication could have provided.

The base of the bridge had been built atop two or three fallen logs, and constructed of professionally-cut lumber planks. The bridge looked to Anna to be not only beautiful, but structurally stable as well; it was a very magnificent bridge indeed.

But it was the words painted on the shield that sat on the archway of the bridge that had taken Anna's breath in one short, quick gasp and halted her crying in the same instant.

_Nothing Crushes Us!_

Anna didn't know who had constructed the bridge, or who had painted the sign, but whoever it had been, she knew that she now felt a deep longing to know the artist. She almost felt as if she knew him already, that she had always known him, but she knew that such a thing was beyond impossible.

Walking onto the bridge, Anna felt a strange sense of something that she hadn't felt since she had first stood before the fire-wall of Ann Marie's house. She didn't know what to call the feeling, except to say that it seemed to her to be a sense of wonder, mixed with inspiration, and an overwhelming powerful feeling of familiarity.

Before long, though, the thrill of discovery wore off and Anna remembered why she was there.

As she fell to her knees and gripped the railing of the bridge, she gazed down at the river below, anger and pain storming through Anna's soul like the churning currents of the creek itself. She had never felt so hurt, so betrayed, so alone.

It had all been lies. Her parents, her grandmother, even her name. All lies.

Even Tom, the one person in the whole world whom Anna had thought she could trust, had betrayed her.

She realized that she could no longer see through the tears in her eyes and the rage in her heart. She felt her hands tightening on the railing. It began to hurt and she released her grip on it and gasped with a sob. As she rubbed her fingers, she noticed that while her hands were aching, they at least were not bleeding.

As her vision began to clear, Anna could see her tears falling into the rushing waters of the river below, the river which had almost claimed her life.

"Almost," Anna sneered.

Maybe it had.

It had taken her memories and that was practically the same thing.

If Anna had known what was to come, the betrayal, the heartache, the pain, the loss, she would never have fought so hard against the river in the first place. Maybe she should have let it finish the job it had started almost two months ago when it had taken her mind.

Maybe it wasn't too late.

She had experienced it before and she would know what to expect: the shock of cold, the pain, the darkness, the powerful torrent dragging her down into its inky embrace, trapping her forever at the bottom of her watery grave, to lay forever amongst the cold uncaring rocks, rotting at the bottom of the river that would forever be her deathly tomb.

And then it would be over.

No more lies, no more tricks, no more struggles, no more loneliness, no more pain, no more suffering, no more fear, no more doubt, no more anger, no more hate.

No more her.

No more Anna.

She would be gone.

Forever.

A girl without a past.

A girl without a future.

A child that nobody wanted to love.

A child forever lost in the currents of time, a child that no one would ever care to save.

It all seemed so utterly hopeless.

What was the point?

Why go on?

What did it matter anymore, anyway?

Who would miss her?

Who would care?

Who would even know?

Besides Tom.

Tom would know.

Tom would care.

Tom would miss her.

He often said that he loved her like a kid-sister and, in spite of everything, Anna still looked to him like the big-brother she probably never had. Anna smiled in spite of herself. Tom was the bravest man she had ever met. He was the one who had saved her from drowning and pulled her to shore. Tom was the one who had stuck by her when everyone else had left the farm.

And it was Tom who had single handedly broken the Wicked Witch's spell over him and slain the old crone, setting them both free from her cruel captivity.

Tom was the greatest man that Anna had ever known, as far as she could remember.

Maybe he was worthy of a second chance.

Yes, she decided, he was definitely worthy of a second chance. He had earned it. Anna could at least give him the chance to explain himself. After everything that he had done for her, Anna knew that she at least owed him that much.

She remembered, then, the words at the head of the bridge: Nothing Crushes Us!

Those words seemed to have even more meaning to her, now.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, and with a newfound sense of personal commitment, Anna set off back the way she had come.

She was going to let Tom explain what had happened and maybe even forgive him. She was going to give him his second chance, just as he had given her a second chance by saving her life. She began walking back down the road, out of the forest, towards home.

And that's when she spotted them.

Coming up the road, in the opposite direction in which she was now heading, Anna saw two kids on their way into the forest. The boy was about the same age as Anna, wearing the usual boy clothes, and with a head of dark brown hair, being followed by a girl, about half Anna's age, with a head of long brown hair; the girl also wore a branch-woven crown, she noticed.

Anna guessed that the boy had made the crown for her, as it looked to be a far too intricate to have been made by her delicate, little-girl hands.

Anna's fist instinct was to hide; she did so in the bushes nearby and was relieved to see that the boy and girl were too busy talking to each other to have taken notice of her.

As the boy and the girl walked by, Anna peered at them from her hiding place and was shocked to discover that the boy leading the way was, in fact, the boy from the strange dreams she had been having for the past few weeks. She couldn't believe it; it was him!

She remembered those dreams like nothing else. And she remembered the words that the dream-boy had always spoken to her right before she awoke.

He was speaking those words to the little girl, now.

"Remember, May Belle, just close your eyes, but keep your mind wide open."

"I know, I know," the little May Belle-girl complained.

It occurred to Anna that the words must have been a lesson to the boy's little sister, oft repeated because they were so crucial.

Anna didn't know why those words were so important to them, but she was dying to find out.

As she listened closely, she heard the May Belle girl call the boy by his name: Jess.

"_Well, that's something,"_ Anna thought gratefully, as she smiled at the handsome boy's nice-sounding name.

As the boy and girl walked across the fallen log, Anna realized that they were headed for the bridge that she had seen earlier. Even more surprises were sure to follow, if she only had the time to follow them to wherever it was they were going.

Anna supposed that she did have the time, if she was willing to put off her self-arranged meeting with Tom. She realized that she could, given the fact that he wasn't actually aware of the meeting.

As the children reached the bridge, Anna followed them in at a careful distance, making sure to be quiet and to stay hidden so as not to be noticed by either of them.

As Anna tiptoed across the bridge after them, she grinned with mischievous delight.

Tom would just have to wait.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Anna peered down into the swirling waters of the river below. As she watched the spiteful currents sloshing beneath her feet, she smiled to herself. It had been nearly eight days since her almost-suicide, and in all that time, her whole life had changed. She could hardly believe that she had been so ready to throw her whole life away only a short time ago.

Tom had been waiting for her when she had arrived home, and had greeted her with a hug and an apology. Anna had told him that she had thought about what he did and why he did it, and told him that she understood. She did understand, and, given the choice, she probably would have done the same thing. They had talked well into the night, and, by morning, Anna had completely forgiven him.

Ann Marie had noticed the change in her attitude, and when she had asked what had happened to her, Anna just said that she had "gained some perspective."

Anna suspected that Ann Marie could sense that there was more to the story, but Anna didn't want to talk about it and Ann Marie had just left it at that. Anna never mentioned the fact that she had contemplated suicide; that would have gained her nothing but a visit to a psychologist, she knew.

Besides, she was past all that now. Things were different, for some reason. Although neither Ann Marie nor Tom knew the reason for the change, Anna knew what it was.

It had all started for her when she had seen the Boy-King and his half-pint Sister-Princess, and had followed them both into the woods, undetected.

For more than a week now she had been following them into their magical kingdom—Tera-something, they called it. While Anna didn't remember the exact name of the place, she did remember their adventures, and while she had seen them battle monster-squirrels, giant bugs, and hairy vultures, they had not seen her. She had stuck close to the trees and shrubs, making sure not to get too close. The strategy had worked. Neither the Boy-King, nor his pint-sized Sister-Princess, had ever noticed her unrequited presence.

Occasionally, when she would make too much noise, the Boy-King would glance in her direction, curious about the sound. He would then stop what he was doing and walk over.

Anna had cursed herself for not being quieter, but the sight of the little May Belle-girl kicking butt and taking names, as she put it, was just too darn funny for Anna to have contained a giggle-fit.

When the Boy-King would wander over to where Anna was hiding, she would cover her mouth and hold her breath, praying that he wouldn't come any closer and discover her hiding in his kingdom.

When he came very close, Anna would keep very still, and, after a few heart-pounding moments of thrilling terror, his kid-sister cried out that she needed help fighting off the squirrel-things—Sqogures, she called them. He would then abandon his phantom-chasing quest and would jump in to save her from the mythical monsters that were swarming all over her.

The Boy-King appeared to be quite fearless and Anna considered revealing herself to him. Seeing as it was their kingdom that she was invading, it occurred to her that she probably should introduce herself—make her presence known, as it were.

But the Boy-King probably wouldn't take too kindly to her unexpected intrusion. Anna had often enough heard him tell his kid-sister Princess that they must never tell anyone where they went everyday; the magical kingdom of Tera-something was obviously a secret known only to them. Anna idly wondered what they would do if they ever found her trespassing.

As her thoughts turned unexpectedly to capture, she imagined herself being brought before the enraged King. He would no doubt be incensed by her unwelcome presence, and would probably have her ordered to the chopping-block for an immediate execution.

While she was certain that the Boy-King was as merciless with intruders as she had seen him be with Sqogures, Anna wasn't entirely sure about the Princess' reaction.

Maybe the Princess would sneer and smile, content to see justice done. Or maybe she would be merciful, and would petition the King for a life-sentence on Anna's behalf.

Anna had been a prisoner before, and the thought of serving out a life-sentence didn't hold much appeal to her, even if it was to be served in a place that she had grown to love. Anna strongly suspected that the magical kingdom of Tera-something was a beautiful place only as long as one could enjoy it in freedom.

Anna decided not to test her theory and remained out of sight of the two every time they were in the Kingdom; she would always wait until at least an hour after they left, before coming out to play by herself.

Sometimes, when Tom would permit it, she would spend the night in the castle. It was a beautiful place, kept warm and dry with the aid of a few blankets and branches, and Anna discovered that it was indeed a pleasant experience to be lulled to sleep by the sounds of the forest at night, the crickets chirping in the bushes and the owls hooting away in their treetop roosts.

Of course, Anna always made sure to be awake, out of the palace and on her way by morning, as the royal family usually arrived early in the day, content to eat their breakfast in the castle. Anna sometimes had to sneak out when she had slept late, so as to avoid the executioner's axe that she was sure she would have to face if she was ever to be caught.

Once, as she was leaving, she had heard the King become angry with the Princess for having left the cookie-jar open. The Princess had protested the accusation, saying that he must have done it because she didn't like those kinds of cookies.

Anna knew full well that she had left the cookie-jar open herself because she was in such a hurry to get out before they found her, and she was grateful that they had set to blaming each other, rather than sounding the alarm.

Guilty as she felt, she had been relieved that she could continue to spy on them, undetected.

Arguing was not an uncommon practice for the King and his sister, but Anna could tell that, in spite of their incessant bickering, they truly did care about each other. The little May Belle-girl admired her big brother and he adored his kid-sister princess and, although they weren't aware of her, Anna was fond of them both.

Most days in the kingdom had been full of excitement, adventure and the joyous sounds of bubbling laughter as the two of them would enjoy the waning days of their summer together.

This day had been quiet, however, as some members of the Royal family had come down with the Royal flu, which could be a Royal pain, as Anna knew. The benefit of their unexpected absence was that she had been able to spend the whole day in the kingdom, exploring, laughing and playing, without having to worry about being found-out.

The day was almost over and Anna had been on her way home, when she had stopped at the river to think for awhile. She had been lost in thought for what must have been an hour, at least, before the sounds of the approaching storm roused her from her thoughts.

As thunder crashed through the sky, Anna pulled up her hood; she knew that rain would soon follow. As the smell of rain clouds filled the air, Anna unexpectedly thought of home, or what she had once thought was her home, and of her Grandmother, or rather, the person who she had once thought was her Grandmother.

Even though Anna now knew that Mrs. Vanderholt had not been her real Grandmother, she had been the closest person Anna had to family and she couldn't have loved her anymore if she had been a blood-relative.

She was sure that Mrs. Vanderholt had felt the same way.

Sometimes, Anna felt a little bit guilty, having thought of old Mrs. Vanderholt as the evil Wicked Witch. It was just for fun, she knew, but she never told her Grandmother about it, for fear of hurting her feelings. Now, Anna wished that she had said something.

Her Grandmother might have understood if Anna had just given her the chance. She might have even joined in the fun.

As the memories washed over her, and the rain began to pour down, Anna began crying for her loss. She missed her Grandmother terribly, and she wished that she could talk to her again, even if it was just for one more time.

As she broke down into helpless sobbing, lost in the turmoil of her emotions, Anna heard a voice over the sound of the pouring rain and the coursing river—a very familiar voice.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing here?" the voice came, sounding a little more irritated than perplexed.

Anna froze. Her breath caught in her throat and she didn't dare turn around. She didn't need to look; she recognized the source of the voice.

It was the Boy-King.

He had caught her.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"What are you doing here?" the Boy-King asked again. It sounded to Anna to be not a boy's question, as much as a King's. Anna knew then that she was not dealing with the eleven year-old kid she had seen laughing and playing during the previous days; she was dealing with the ruler of this magical land. There was no mistaking the clear ring of authority in his voice; it was a voice that demanded she answer him.

But how could she possibly explain herself? He was a King, while she was just a former servant-girl, an escaped prisoner of the Wicked Witch, who was now trespassing on his private land. She had no right to be here and she knew it. The King knew it, too.

"_But what is he doing here?_" Anna wondered. _"He was supposed to be at home, caring for his little sister."_

Anna had discovered, from Ann Marie's talks with Mrs. Aarons, that May Belle had come down with the flu and that Jess had been ordered to take care of her. Jess may have been a king in his own land, but at home, he was just a servant; much like Anna had been on the Witch's farm.

Even if he hadn't been ordered to stay, Anna was sure that he would have volunteered. He absolutely adored his kid-sister princess; the fact that he had chosen to share his private kingdom with her was proof of that. He would never have abandoned her while she was sick.

Now, Anna felt as if she might suddenly be sick, herself. She tried desperately to order her thoughts, but they all came through her mind at once.

"_Why isn't he caring for her? What in the world is he doing out in his kingdom without her? And why has he caught me standing on the bridge, crying in the rain like a fool?" _she pondered, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

When Anna saw what the King was holding, it all became clear to her.

His fist was clutching a bouquet of purple flowers—May Belle's flowers—he called them. He must have gathered them for her, to cheer her. He had wanted to bring home a piece of their kingdom to her, since she couldn't come herself, Anna figured.

Jess was a very thoughtful king, she realized, and, at that moment, Anna found herself wishing that he wasn't quite so thoughtful; he never would have caught her here if he hadn't been picking those flowers. _"This entire incident is his fault," _she thought bitterly, _"not mine."_

Anna reprimanded herself. How could she blame him for her mistakes? He was just trying to do something nice for his sister, whereas she was doing something very wrong: trespassing. Her own carelessness had gotten her caught and in a place she didn't belong anyway.

But why hadn't she heard him coming? She had always been so careful...

Anna realized that she must not have heard his footsteps because of the sound of the approaching thunderstorm, her own sobbing, or maybe the churning of the river. She realized that she wasn't sure which of these things had caused it; not that it made a difference, though. Caught was caught, done was done, nothing left to do, but run.

Of course Anna knew that she didn't stand a chance if she ran. She had seen him run and she knew that he was fast. He would catch her and, even if she managed to get away, he could find where she lived and get to her there. On top of all that, he could always just call upon the Tera-things that lived in his woods to snatch her and bring her to him.

Anna shuddered. She knew that she was but one royal-command away from the executioner's axe at this point. She didn't dare move, for fear of provoking the king further.

The King stepped up onto the bridge—his bridge—and walked towards her. His graceful movements were clear and focused, as was his intent: he wanted an answer and he would have it, one way or another. As he stopped near her, Anna thought she might faint.

Anna knew that she couldn't face such a bold king, especially not in her present condition. Her eyes were no doubt swollen from crying, her face as red as her coat, and her nose was running like the river below. She thought that she must surely look a fright. Anna was grateful that she had already pulled up her hood, before he had arrived, in anticipation of the coming rainstorm, as it helped to block his view of her face.

As the King came close to her, she timidly turned away from his harsh glare and gazed down into the water to see if her reflection would confirm her suspicion about her dreadful appearance. The face she didn't know looked back, but it was not like before.

Anna was shocked by what she now saw and she gaped at the image staring back at her.

Her face wasn't red like she had expected; it was green. She looked like a frog! Her hands were the match for her face and she quickly stuffed them into her coat pockets so that the King wouldn't see them. As horrible as it was, Anna couldn't take her eyes off the image in the water. It didn't make sense. How could this have happened?

What had caused her to turn into a… a frog-girl?!

The answer became clear to her in a blinding instant: The Witch.

But how could the Wicked Witch have done such a thing? She was long dead—Tom had seen to that. Then the answer hit her like a train: Tom.

The Witch had probably cursed him with her dying breath when he had driven his sword through her heart. Anna knew that the Witch had said something to Tom before she died, but she didn't know what it was.

She knew now what it must have been: A betrayer's curse.

A betrayer's curse acted on the premise of a betrayal, like when Tom had told her that he had lied to her. That would have been enough to activate the spell, but not enough to complete the transformation. So what had?

Anna figured that it must have been her own guilt at having come here without permission that had completed the spell's work; getting caught was all it took to finish the charm.

The sound of the King's coice roused her from her thoughts. "I'm not going to ask you again," he said, impatiently.

Anna thought about jumping into the river to escape, but she felt that she no longer had the right. She would face her punishment, even if it meant her death.

Anna turned away from the King's heated expression. "_I can't let him see me like this,_" she thought to herself. "_But he won't let me leave without explaining myself_."

With her hood up, her back turned to him, and her voice choked with phlegm, she finally answered the King's demand for an explanation in a deep, throaty frog's voice.

"I'm sorry," she croaked, horrified to discover that her voice was now indeed the match for her face. "I was just looking for a place where I could be alone."

Anna didn't bother to clear her throat. She knew that it wasn't really phlegm from her sobbing that was making her sound this way; it was the fact that she was fast-becoming a frog-girl. She felt mortified by the awful sound and hoped the King wouldn't mention it.

"Well, you'll have to find some other place," the King declared. "This one's taken."

He did not sound pleased, but then, why should he? He was the rightful ruler of this beautiful place, and what was she? She was nobody, a loser, an orphan with no name.

And now she was becoming a frog-girl with no name. She felt as out-of-place as a servant on a throne.

"I'm so sorry, Majesty," she said, in a throaty whisper, "I won't bother you anymore."

She started to leave.

"Wait," the King commanded. Anna stopped in mid-stride. Her heart pounded. Was he giving her a second chance? Was he going to let her stay? Anna hoped against hope that he would, out of pity for this poor little frog-girl, if nothing else.

"You're the one who's been stealing our food, aren't you." the King asked.

It sounded more like an accusation than a question, and Anna's answer was a burp which caused her cheeks to puff-out, much like a frog's throat.

Anna dearly hoped that the noble King hadn't heard it over the sound of the coursing river and pouring rain.

"I guess that answer's my question," the King said, much to Anna's chagrin.

As she stood there, lost in her awkward embarrsassment, Anna silently wondered if frog-girls could swim.

"I didn't mean to intrude, Majesty," Anna apologized, her voice still a deep, throaty croak. "I was just a little hungry from my travels, that's all."

She started to leave again, but the King's voice stopped her once more.

"_This is getting tiresome,"_ Anna thought. "_I just wanna go home_."

"Well, I guess if you didn't wreck anything, it's alright; this time," he said. "But don't tell anyone else about this place, or you'll be sorry."

There was no mistaking the seriousness in his voice, or the very real threat in his tone. Anna trembled at the sound. She still couldn't face him.

"Not even your parents," the King added, as an afterthought.

"I couldn't do that even of I wanted to, Majesty," she said. "Both my parents are gone."

The King was silent for a moment, so Anna went on. "But I won't tell anyone else I know about this place, either," she whispered, her croaking voice choked with tears.

She meant it, too. The last thing Anna needed at this point was some magical king becoming angry with her. She had already been cursed, twice: First her memory loss and now the Wicked Witch had somehow managed to reach up out of her grave to snatch away Anna's very humanity. She felt like she might die from humiliation at the folly of it all.

She didn't know what to do. She thought again about jumping in the river, and maybe swimming away to frog-girl-heaven, if such a place even existed. She doubted that it did.

As she stood there, staring absently into the water, the King gently touched her on the shoulder. She turned, startled by his boldness. He was trying to console her, she realized, but she hadn't noticed that he had gotten so close; he had taken her by complete surprise.

What happened next was even more of a surprise.

As Anna turned and faced the noble King, lightning flashed, lighting up the forest in a blinding instant. As it did so, they both gazed into each other's eyes.

In the moment she saw his face, Anna saw something in his eyes which she did not understand. He almost seemed confused; as if he couldn't believe that which his eyes were showing him was real. Anna could understand the sentiment. She was transforming, after all, and she guessed that she would just have to get used to seeing such looks on people's faces when they gazed upon her frog-like features.

Anna thought there might be more to it than that, as the Boy-King whispered something that Anna couldn't make-out over the booming sound of thunder which immediately followed the lightning-strike.

She was just about to ask the King what he had said, when his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground with a loud 'thump.'

Anna stood there, gaping at him. She couldn't believe it. She knew she was ugly, but she didn't honestly believe that her frog-face was hideous enough to make the Boy-King drop dead on the spot. Anna rib-bitted her indignant exasperation.

Just then, over the sound of the thunder and wind, Anna the frog-girl heard voices: First a woman's voice, then a man's. She realized that the voices were coming her way.

The woman's voice came first. "Jess, where are you?"

The woman's voice sounded to Anna to be very angry and frightened at the same time.

"Can you here us?!" it came again.

Now, it sounded worried.

Her voice was soon followed by the man's voice, which was very angry and gruff, but sounded slightly worried as well. "Son, if you can hear us, you'd better answer!"

Anna realized what the voices were: They were the voices of the Boy-King's parents. They had come looking for him.

Anna rib-bitted in panic. She didn't know what their reaction would be if she was found standing over the body of their dead son, but she was sure that she knew what his sister's reaction would be when she found out about what had occured; Anna could practically see it in her mind.

Princess May Belle would be outraged. She would call a meeting of her war-council and make an impassioned speech about how their noble king was "so wrongly taken from us by a skulking, cowardly, amphibian assassin!" Anna expected not one of them to disagree with her, as she would be the only ruler they would have left at that point.

The Princess's words would enrage the people and trigger a witch-hunt that would sweep across the magical land like a firestorm.

But Anna knew they wouldn't be hunting a witch.

They would be hunting a frog-girl.

Anna swallowed back the lump in her throat and rib-bitted again, as the voices came closer. She looked to the sky as the wind howled through the trees overhead.

The sun was setting. Night was already descending upon them and the mere thought of hundreds of thousands of Tera-soldiers bearing down on her in the dark gave Anna the shivers; or maybe it was the fact that she was now a cold-blooded amphibian.

As she peered into the darkening woods, Anna the frog-girl considered her options.

She could jump into the river and try to swim away; but she wasn't entirely sure that she could survive in the river's torrent, even in her present condition. She could always go home; but the thought of Tom seeing her like this gave her pause.

What if he dropped dead just like the King? Even if he didn't die, Anna was sure that he would laugh at her.

Anna thought that _she_ might drop dead from embarrassment if he did.

She could run into the woods and try to find a place to hide.

That sounded best. She had spent several days exploring the landscape of this magical kingdom, and she knew of several caves where she could take shelter.

There were even a few towns and cities that she could hide in, undetected, if she was careful not to be noticed. The Princess would have a hard time tracking her down, if she kept to herself.

"_But the princess knows this land, too,"_ Anna thought, shrewdly.

Whereas Anna had spent only a few measly hours exploring Tera-whatever, May Belle had probably helped the King to create this magical world of theirs.

She would know every place that the frog-girl would go to ground. Her soldiers would find her within the first day, and, that night, their princess would be feasting on an exquisite dinner consisting mainly of frog's legs.

Anna rib-bitted as the voices grew closer; they were almost upon her. The time had come to choose: jump in the river and go for a swim, or take her chances in the woods.

Anna decided on the woods. She reasoned that she could stay safe if she didn't remain in one place for too long. The Princess would eventually catch her, she knew, but Anna decided that she would not make it easy for her. If May Belle really wanted her frog-leg dinner, then Anna would make sure that she would have the devil's own task getting it!

As the voices calling for their lost son finally reached the woods, Anna took one last look at the fallen King. His eyes were closed and he had dropped the flowers that were meant for his princess into the river—the same river that had almost killed Anna.

On days like this, she almost wished it had.

Watching the flowers floating downstream, Anna felt a stab of guilt at knowing that the little May Belle-girl would never receive them, and a worse pang of guilt at knowing that she, herself, had been the one who had caused such an event to occur. Anna felt sick and wished that she had never come to this magical place and caused so much trouble.

As Anna croaked an apology to the dead King for her accidental crime, and the voices became too close to ignore, she finally turned and ran off into the woods to begin her new life as a frog-girl fugitive.

She knew beyond doubt that it would not be an easy one.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jesse Aarons awoke with a start. It took him a few minutes before he got his bearings and realized where he was. Looking around, he saw that he was in his bed. As he rubbed his eyes, he also saw that May Belle wasn't in hers. Jess suspected that she was in the bathroom and he dearly hoped that she wasn't throwing-up; he desperately didn't want to have to go through _that_ when he eventually caught whatever it was she had.

As he stood up, Jess felt a pain in the back of his head. It felt like someone had hit him with a baseball bat—not that Jess had ever been hit with a baseball bat, but if he ever was, he imagined that it would probably feel at a little something like he did just then.

When Jess looked down, he noticed something peculiar: he was still wearing his day- clothes. Throwing the covers off himself, he went downstairs to see if anyone else was up. What he saw when he got there, he never would have expected.

May Belle was awake; and she was helping their mother flip pancakes! Whatever she had been suffering from must have passed or their mother would have never let her anywhere near the food. Jess was just glad that she wasn't puking all over the place.

"Hey, Jess, look," May Belle said, "Mom's helping me flip pancakes!"

Mother smiled and gently took the spatula from her daughter, telling her to be careful and to just watch them while they cooked, before coming over and kneeling down in front of Jess.

She pressed her hand to his forehead, and then to the sides of his face. Seeing that he was alright, she sighed and stood back up. Jess was about to ask what was wrong when his mother ask him an unusual question. "What happened to you last night, Jess?"

May Belle gave him a concerned look, before adding, "Mom thought that maybe you were dead."

Jess didn't understand what she meant, but then he remembered what had transpired the night before. Some of it was a blank, but he still thought that he could recall most of it.

It was raining. The wind was picking up and a storm was coming in. He had been on his way home with a handful of May Belle's flowers when he had reached the Bridge.

Someone was there, on the bridge; someone who didn't belong in Terabithia.

Jess remembered confronting the person, and the stranger mentioning something about losing her parents. He didn't really know if the 'someone' he had met was a girl; her voice was so hoarse, that it sounded as if a frog were speaking to him.

Jess had understood well the pain of losing someone special, having dealt with it himself, not long ago. He had thought to help comfort the stranger, maybe offer some words of advice. As she turned around to face him, the lightning had flashed and then…

He remembered that he had seen her face in the sudden light, but he couldn't remember anything else. He figured he must have been hurt or something at that point, that maybe a tree-branch had hit him in the head. That would certainly explain the pain he now felt.

But it wouldn't explain the stranger or what she had been doing there, on his bridge.

Jess remembered well the day he had built the Bridge to Terabithia.

Leslie had died and he had been trying to find a way to honor her memory.

Remembering what Leslie's father had taught him, Jess had set to "working hard at work worth doing."

He had needed to borrow some tools from his father, and the lumber from the Burke's yard, but he had insisted on doing all the work himself. Not that anyone else had offered to help him, since he never told anyone what he was up to; he had wanted the bridge to be a surprise.

And it was.

May Belle had been overjoyed when he had first taken her across the enchanted bridge to Terabithia.

Declaring her a princess, Jess had taken her by the hand and led her into a magical world of wonder and life: the very same world of magic and wonder into which Leslie had brought Jess, before she died on her way back to that beautiful place.

It had been almost three full months since Leslie's death, and although Jess had learned to embrace the idea of a life without her, it still seemed strange to him that she was gone.

Not a day went by that he didn't miss his old friend; her voice, her free spirit, her sense of adventure. Jess still had those qualities within himself, of course; he just wished that Leslie was still with him so that they could enjoy those qualities of life, together.

His mother's voice brought him back to the present, detailing the events that followed his injury. Jess' parents had gone out looking for him when the storm had started. After thirty minutes of bellowing and hollering, they had finally found his limp body on the bridge to Terabithia.

Nobody knew exactly what had happened, but he seemed okay when they brought him home and put him to bed. Then his mother told him something he didn't entirely expect.

"Jess, you were mumbling in your sleep the whole way home," she confessed and by the way she was wringing the dish towel in her fists, Jess surmised that there was something more to this then she was willing to tell him. He guessed that it wasn't good.

"You kept mumbling something about Leslie," May Belle said.

Mother was obviously uncomfortable with telling Jess about what he had been saying the night before and he guessed that she didn't want to bring up painful memories of events long since past.

Jess wasn't too surprised by this news; May Belle often said that he mumbled in his sleep, usually about Leslie. It kept May Belle awake some nights, although she was too kind to ever complain about it. Jess was grateful for the courtesy and wished he could return the favor by not mumbling in his sleep, even if it was about his old friend.

Jess noticed that his mother looked worried; as if the nightmare that had once seized her young son's heart would suddenly reappear, like a phantom coming out of the darkness to snatch at his very soul. She was still wringing the dish towel in her fists.

"Are you alright, Jess?" his mother asked, anxiously.

Jess yawned. This was all very pointless to him. There was nothing to those nightmares anymore. Leslie was gone. Painful as her passing had been, he had accepted it and he had moved on. In his mind, there was nothing more to discuss—not about Leslie anyway.

"I'm fine," he said, in response to her earnest question. "Nothing's wrong anymore. Like I told you, I'm over it." His tone said that he expected her to leave it at that.

His mother sighed and relaxed a bit, but she still appeared to Jess to be more than a bit apprehensive. _"Mother's worry too much,"_ Jess thought, ruefully.

Jess decided that there was 'no use in beating a dead horse' as his father would say, so instead of trying to convince his mother that he really was okay, he simply excused himself and headed back upstairs to take a shower and put on some clean clothes.

Mother was about to stop him to talk more, when May Belle shouted that the pancakes were "burning up!" and she had to rush over with the spatula to rescue them.

"_May Belle did something useful, for once,"_ Jess mused to himself as he used the distraction to slip out of the clutches of the evil Mom-Lady and make good his escape.

"_Nothing worse than an overprotective mother and a pain-in-the-butt sister,"_ he thought as he reached the bathroom and got undressed.

As he looked into the mirror, his thoughts turned unexpectedly to Leslie and he realized something else he didn't like.

"Except maybe the death of a good friend,"he said, to no one in particular.

As he came downstairs, fresh in his clean clothes, Jess discovered that what his nose had already told him was true: breakfast was ruined. A quick chat with May Belle confirmed the rest of his suspicions. She was no Wolfgang Puck.

In spite of their mother's valiant efforts, the pancakes had been lost as casualties in the great stove-top war of 2007 and were declared legally dead at 10:00 a.m. Jess's mother had already switched to her "emergency rations" in the form of her homemade oatmeal.

Jess groaned as he sat down at the table. He hated oatmeal.

As he poured himself some orange-juice and tried not to think about the miserable prison gruel he would soon be shoveling down, Jess again considered the events of the previous night. He wondered about the mysterious stranger on the bridge and why he couldn't seem to remember her face. May Belle had her nose stuck in the book that Jess had given to her to read over the summer, so he was left to ponder the mystery in peace.

Something about the encounter on the bridge seemed so familiar to him, but he was certain that he had never experienced anything like that before. He guessed that he was just feeling anxious about the upcoming school year.

Jess was stirred from his thoughts when his mother placed his oatmeal in front of him.

As she withdrew her hand, she looked into his eyes and asked him one more time if he really was alright.

Jess wanted to scream that he was fine, but he held his anger in check. Taking a deep breath and sighing heavily, he rolled his eyes and told her that he really was 'fine' before starting in on his gruel, so as not to have to answer her again.

As Jess swallowed the grainy mush, he noticed that May Belle was eating her oatmeal with gusto. Jess never understood what May Belle found so appealing about the powdered oat-bran mush they were stuck with, and he silently wondered if his little sister hadn't staged the pancake-burning incident on purpose, just to get a change in the menu.

Their mother paused, then, in the middle of washing the dishes, to say the most unexpected thing. "Jess, hurry up and finish your oatmeal so we can get ready for school."

Before Jess could ask what she meant by that, May Belle answered around a mouthful of oatmeal. "Mom's taking us shopping for back-to-school supplies."

"Great," Jess muttered. "The oppression begins."

Summer wasn't even over and already school was beginning to steal away his free time.

The worst part was that the months had seemed to pass by so quickly; he hadn't gotten to do even half the things that he had planned on doing, though not for lack of trying.

Jess and May Belle had spent countless hours in Terabithia. They had very often times come home so late that they had narrowly avoided getting into trouble, on more than one occasion. Those fun times of freedom were coming to an end, he knew, for Jess was soon to trade the magical kingdom of Terabithia for the dark, stinking dungeons of Lark Creek Elementary School. He could practically taste the terror; or maybe it was just the oatmeal.

Already, images of dozens of prisoners just like him being led through the hallways flooded into his mind. They were all being led in chains to the torture chambers better known as classrooms; where worked the pain administers better known as 'teachers.'

Jess had more than once escaped from that fortress of evil and had more than once been recaptured. He knew how hopeless their plight was. There would be no lasting escape from their educational torment until after death; or winter break, whichever came first.

Jess smiled at May Belle. At least he could spend some time with her during recess.

Unfortunately, his new friend Janice Avery would not be there for she had graduated to a much larger and far more dangerous prison known as 'high school.' Jess knew it had to be a terrible place with an inescapable dungeon, because while many children went there when they became too large to be housed at his prison, not one of them ever returned.

After polishing off the last of his prison gruel, Jess silently handed the bowl to his mother; a prisoner doing as ordered.

Lifting his empty book-bag onto his shoulders, Jess savored its light weight; it would soon enough be weighted down by the mass of heavy books that he would be forced to carry around, like a pack mule. They would be the iron ball to his chains. His shoulders were already aching at the thought of his future workload.

As he put on his shoes and headed for the door, at his mother's insistent instruction, he thought about Leslie and how much he missed her. It occurred to him that she would probably have been looking forward to going back to school by now, if she hadn't died.

Jess wondered if she was happy in heaven.

He realized then, as he reached the door, that he was actually a little jealous of his old friend, because while he was about to be shipped off to rot in some dank, dark dungeon, she was doubtlessly in paradise, having the time of her life.

**

* * *

**

Anna the frog-girl sniffed the air. The morning was cold and wet, as most had been. It was autumn and she knew that it was to be expected, but Anna suspected that the chill running through her was not because of the weather; it was because of the strange transformation that were taking place throughout her body.

As she glanced around, Anna realized that she was alone. She had been alone for a while now, she knew, and while she missed having someone to talk to, she was relieved that no one had found her. As hideous as she had become, she earnestly hoped that nobody ever would.

Anna rib-bitted. She had once been so beautiful. Not that she had thought so, but Tom had often told her how pretty she was and how very soon she would have countless young boys lining up to ask her out to dances and such.

Whenever he would say such things, Anna would blush and giggle. He would then gibe that she "looked better in red", a comment which would make her get even redder. She often wished that her face wouldn't get so red when she talked to Tom. Now she found herself wishing that it _was_ red--or purple or blue, anything but the horrible shade of green that it had become.

It seemed that the transformation was occurring more rapidly than she had thought it would.

Almost over-night, Anna had gone from a girl who looked like a frog, to a frog that looked like a girl. Her hands were turning a sickening shade of green; they were also webbed with sticky balls at the end of her fingers. Her feet were the same and they had become so large that she had needed to take off her shoes. Not wanting to leave them behind, Anna had taken to tying the laces together and draping them around her bull-frog neck.

Anna had found that her tongue had grown to more than twice the length of her body, and more than once she had needed to resist the urge to snatch a few dragonflies as they had flown past in the evening air the previous night.

Sometimes, Anna found that she couldn't resist.

The whole nightmare was made worse by the fact that she knew how to end it, but wasn't sure of what method to apply to her unique situation.

Having lived in the Witch's home for several weeks, Anna had found a key to a room the Witch had kept locked—a room containing the Witch's most powerful spell-books.

Although Anna knew that she couldn't use any of the spells that she read about, because she didn't have the training, she at least understood how to undo some of them.

This one was a difficult one to break, requiring something called 'love's true delight'.

Anna didn't know what that was, but she guessed that it had something to do with the "kiss of true love" that she had read about in other spell-books.

"_Not much chance of that,"_ Anna thought, bitterly_. "Who could ever love an ugly little frog girl like me, enough to wan to kiss me… and be happy about it?"_

Anna watched as a pair of dragonflies flitted past and she had to stop herself from acquiring breakfast, just then. She hopped off the rock she had been sitting on to find something more suitable to her human tastes, while she still had them.

Reaching under the old log that was her hiding place, Anna was pleased to find that what she had placed there the night before was still waiting for her; no one had yet found her hidden treasure-stash.

Pulling the lid off of the cookie jar, Anna noticed that there weren't as many cookies as there had previously been. No one had taken them, other than her, she knew, and she realized that she would probably soon run-out. She also realized that getting more food would be next to impossible, at this point.

After having slain the King of Terabithia with her 'spiteful glance', Anna had returned to his tree-castle to loot the royal treasury: A jar of cookies, a box of ding dongs, and two six packs of juice- boxes.

Anna had figured that since she had already killed the king she might as well rob his palace.

"_In for a penny in for a pound"_ she had thought as she took that which she knew didn't belong to her. May Belle would have a harder time finding her if she didn't have the treasures to pay informants for their information, Anna figured, so there was another benefit to her thievery.

Although she knew that she was only trying to appease her conscience, Anna realized that she had to do something to survive; frog-girls can't live off of dragonflies alone.

Taking a couple of cookies and a juice box, she replaced the remaining treasures back under the log. She knew that those provisions wouldn't last much longer, and Anna considered going home for a food-gathering visit. She would have to be extremely careful so as not to be caught, for fear of hurting anyone else.

She also feared that she would have to endure teasing jokes from Tom for the rest of her life if he ever saw her like this.

As Anna sat down on the log and ate her now stale cookie-breakfast, she realized that she must not have sealed the cookie-jar as tightly as she should have. She also realized just how much she missed Ann Marie's pancakes.

As Anna sat on the log eating the stale cookies and drinking her warm fruit-juice, she idly wondered if it was going to be her last meal. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she would be caught and made to answer for her crimes against this place.

It seemed to Anna that every snap of a twig, every rustle of a bush, every bending of a tree branch was a signal that the Tera-soldiers were closing in on her.

Anna rib-bitted. She was just being paranoid, she knew.

Finishing off the last of her ding-dong breakfast, Anna drank a sip of juice and figured it would be safe enough to sing a verse her old freedom song, since no one was attacking by now.

_Got a fifty-seven Chevy, she's low sleek and black,_

_Someday I'll put her on the interstate and never look back _

_Someday, I'm finally gonna let go,_

_I know there's a better way,_

_I wanna know what's over that rainbow_

_I'm gonna get outta here someday…_

_Someday…_

As Anna continued her song, she thought about the images it conjured in her mind: memories of the boy-king that she had never known until she came to this place.

She thought about how her life had changed since the day she had discovered his magical kingdom. She thought about how it had changed again when she had killed him with a single look. She thought about her current predicament and what she could do to change it.

"_On the run, can't go home, alone and cursed, with no memory of who I am," _Anna thought, smiling to herself at the folly of it all.

_"I guess life couldn't get much sweeter,"_ she thought sarcastically.

* * *

Jess tossed his newly filled book-bag on his bed with a sigh. The notebooks he had filled it with during the shopping trip had added considerable weight to his prison-bag.

As he flopped down onto his prison-bed, Jess tried not to think of the extra weight that was still to be added. He casually glanced out the window. The day was more than half gone. May Belle wanted to go out to Terabithia as soon as they got home, but Jess was worn-out from all the running around they had done that day; he just wanted to stay home and rest.

Of course, May Belle wouldn't have it and she immediately grabbed Jess' arm and started pulling him up as soon as she had finished putting away her school supplies.

"C'mon, Jess, c'mon!" May Belle shouted, as she tried with all her might to drag Jess to his feet. He remembered when Leslie used to call to him like that, although she wasn't nearly as annoying, as far as he could remember.

"You promised we could go back today!" she whined. He knew that she wasn't going to let this promise go.

Sighing heavily and groaning with exaggerated effort, Jess got to his feet and let his little-sister-princess drag him out the door.

Within moments they were both on their way back to Terabithia.


	10. Chapter 10

**Dear Loyal Readers,**

**I'm terribly sorry to inform you that a small oversight has occured. **

**I'm afraid that I had left out half of the last chapter (Chapter 9) and I have since filled it in on the previous page.**

**If you wish to know what happens between this chapter and the previous one, then please take a moment to re-read Chapter 9 before continuing with this chapter. Please take your time and don't worry; this chapter will still be here when you get back. **

**Thank you and enjoy!**

**-- Mark R. Whitten**

Chapter 10

The High King of Terabithia gazed out at the beautiful landscape that was his kingdom. It was all his, from the mountains, to the oceans, and everything in between. It was beyond doubt the most beautiful kingdom that anyone could ever hope to possess.

It was a land of beauty.

It was a land of magic.

It was a land infested by thieves.

Much to King Jess' dismay, someone had broken into the palace and had looted the royal treasury while he had been away. That person was on the run now, judging from the ding-dong debris that she had left in her wake. Apparently, the frog-girl fugitive hadn't even waited until she had gotten out of the palace before starting in on her plundered treasures.

Jess silently wondered if maybe she wasn't so much a frog-girl, as a pig-girl.

He had been so close to catching her and finding out who she was. He had even caught a glimpse of her face, but then she had used some sort of magic to make him lose consciousness and had escaped. Jess swore that he would not be taken by surprise like that again, that he would find her and make her pay for her crimes against the people of Terabithia, but, after a full day of hopping, he realized that she could be anywhere by now.

"Don't forget about your promise, Jess!" came a voice from his side.

"What?" he said, looking down, confused by the unexpected interruption.

Jess had been trying, unsuccessfully, to remember the frog-girl's face when May Belle had piped up. He hadn't clearly heard her statement. She grinned up at him and repeated herself.

"I said 'don't forget your promise'."

He looked down at her, and, realizing what she meant, Jess decided to tease her.

"And what promise would that be?" he asked, with a smile of feigned ignorance.

"You promised to take me frog-girl hunting, remember?!" May Belle exclaimed, wildly waving her arms about.

"Oh, right," Jess said, pretending to remember. "Are you sure you want to go? Frog-girl's are dangerous creatures and you're awfully small. She might swallow you whole," he teased.

"Maybe, but I bet I wouldn't faint," May Belle immediately shot back.

Jess smiled at her insult; it was so unusual that his kid-sister would get the best of him.

"Well, if you're sure you really want to go…" he said, giving her one last chance to change her mind about their little hunting expedition.

May Belle was already nodding in response to his implied question.

"All right," Jess said, picking up his hunting staff. "Let's go catch us a frog-girl!"

May Belle was halfway down the tree-fort when he turned around to ask her if she was ready to go. Jess smiled and climbed down after his kid-sister turned huntress. A moment later, they were off hunting for the frog-girl thief that had been plaguing their land. Soon enough, they would have her captured and cooking in a pot.

The sun was close to setting by the time they were closing in on her. Jess was sure that she was close; he could feel it. But May Belle was having trouble keeping up. It was her first hunt and she was already tired from the day's previous shopping activities.

Jess wished that she weren't quite so young; she was slowing him down and he desperately wanted to find the frog-girl that had been plundering their palace and terrorizing their people, before she caused any more trouble in Terabithia.

As they approached a clearing, Jess felt May Belle tugging on his arm.

"Jess," she whined, rubbing her eyes. "I'm tired. I wanna go home!"

Jess shushed her. She was making too much noise and he knew that if they were caught arguing, it could be the end of them both. There was no telling what the frog-girl was capable of, now that they had her cornered.

As Jess pushed through the bushes into the clearing with his arm raised high, his foot caught on something. He fell to the ground with a 'thud,' sending dead leaves swirling up into the air around him. As the leaves floated down, he looked back to see what he had tripped over, and saw May Belle, whistling innocently, like some of the characters did in the cartoons she watched, when they wanted to appear innocent. It became clear in an instant what had happened: May Belle had tripped him.

"What'd you do that for?!" he yelled, louder than he meant to.

"It was an accident!" May Belle exclaimed.

Jess fumed at her.

"You did it on purpose!" he shouted.

"It's not my fault you're so clumsy!" she screamed back.

Jess gazed back where he had thought that he saw the frog-girl, but he didn't see her anywhere. The light was fading, he realized, and she must have used the distraction to escape from them. She was gone; thanks to May Belle.

Jess stormed off. "C'mon, let's go home," he grumbled, acceding to her earlier wishes.

This was not turning out to be the best day that they had spent in Terabithia. The frog-girl had used the time of their arguing to slip through their fingers. She had escaped justice today, but she couldn't run forever.

"_Soon,"_ Jess thought, _"Soon, I will have her."_

* * *

Anna sighed in relief; they were leaving. As she came out of her hiding place among the rocks and shrubs, she watched as the noble Boy-King led his kid-sister Princess and the rest of the hunting party away from her position.

Anna rib-bitted. _"Good,"_ she thought, gratefully, _"the King's still alive_._"_

Anna was glad to see that she had not killed him after all. But he had still gotten too close to finding her. If it weren't for his sister, Anna was sure that he would have.

As she looked around, wondering where she should go next, Anna the frog-girl considered if maybe the May Belle girl had known where she was hiding and had tripped her big brother on purpose. Maybe she was trying to be merciful to Anna. Maybe she felt sorry for her. Maybe she could help her.

Or maybe she really did just want to go home. Anna could understand that feeling. She desperately wished that she could go home. She had already dreamed that she had.

Not wanting Tom and Ann Marie to worry, and then send a search party of their own after her, Anna the frog-girl had dreamed that she had returned late in the night and left a note for them, saying that she was going to spend the night in the tree house, if it was okay. She knew that they wouldn't mind, and that it wouldn't raise suspicions, as she had spent many a night in the tree house before.

Tom had walked in on her when she had finished writing the note, and had been in the middle of stealing some supplies to keep her warm and fed.

He had asked her what she was doing. Keeping her back to him, with her hood up, like she had with the King, she told him that she was going to spend a few days in the woods "Camping."

Without a word, he had then retrieved some supplies for her and helped her on her way.

Then she had awoken. Anna truly wished that she had possessed the courage to make that dream a reality, and she figured that now was as good a time as any to find it.

She had to go home, not only to keep them from worrying, but because the nights were going to get so much colder very soon, and she would be needing some blankets to keep herself warm.

As Anna the frog-girl began hopping towards home, her frog-foot caught on something and she fell to the ground with a 'thud.'

As she hit the forest floor in the fading light of dusk, her head smacked on a rock and the world went black.

* * *

The next thing she knew, she was waking up in the dark, her head aching for some, as of yet unknown, reason. She couldn't remember why her skull was burning like it was and she felt like she might throw-up. She was greatly relieved when she didn't.

As she sat up and looked around, she saw the rock and remembered what had occurred. She felt a little foolish, tripping like she had, especially right after having seen someone else do the same thing only moments before she had, and after having silently laughed at him for his clumsiness. She didn't know how long she had been out, but she figured that it must have been at least a few hours, judging by how much her head was hurting.

Then she realized that she couldn't see. She thought that the blow to the back of her head had caused her to go blind, and for a moment she panicked, groping about in the darkness, searching for something to hold onto.

After a few moments, her eyes began to adjust to the darkness and she realized that it was only nightfall that was inhibiting her sight.

She sighed in relief, feeling a bit sheepish; she was glad that no one else was around to have seen her foolish behavior.

As she moved to stand up, she felt a strange sensation; it felt to her as if a fog was lifting from her mind.

She realized, then, that she could remember something that she had forgotten, something that had once been so basic, yet so crucial to her survival, indeed, to her very existence, that it had never once occurred to her that she could ever forget it. She felt somehow ashamed that she had, although she knew that it wasn't entirely her fault.

She remembered this thing, this, nub, this crux, and with a blinding flash of sudden clarity, the rest of what she had once believed lost to her forever, was finally returned.

It was as if the thing which she had suddenly remembered had been the key to a magic door that was now flung wide open and that the rest of it was now pouring through that doorway, into her mind, like the coursing waters of the river that she knew all too well.

It had all started with that basic little thing, the thing that had eluded her for almost two months, the thing that could not elude her anymore.

With the blow to her head, she had finally, and completely unexpectedly chanced upon that tiny little tidbit of crucial information that had once been so precious to her, that it had never once occured to her that she could ever forget it.

At last she could remember who she was.

At last she could remember her name.

Her name was Leslie Burke.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Her name was Leslie Burke. She remembered that now. It seemed to her as if she had never really forgotten it; as though that knowledge was so important to her that it had never really left her mind.

But she knew it had.

She knew she had forgotten everything: her parents, her home, her whole wonderful life.

She had lost it all: her mother, her father, even herself.

And now she had gotten it all back.

She remembered everything.

She remembered her parents, Bill and Judy Burke, both writers, both very successful, and she felt a deep sense of pride in knowing their stature as moderately famous authors.

But that pride was quickly swallowed in the feelings of despair she now felt over how much she missed them. They were long gone from her life, and she didn't know where they were or if they even knew where she was; she doubted that they did.

Leslie collapsed to the ground in tears of joy, anger, pain, and relief for all that she had lost being returned to her at last. And then she realized something else: She was home.

Fate had somehow led her back to Lark Creek, to where she had been when she was still herself. The slimmest of chances had allowed her to return to the one place where she knew she belonged.

She thought about telling Tom about what had just happened. He would be so happy for her and so would Ann Marie. Just then, another astounding revelation hit her like a train: Ann Marie's home was her own house! She had lived there with her parents and had painted the fire-wall she had admired, along with her mother and her father.

And Jess.

She remembered Jess.

Leslie gasped with a sob as she remembered how much he meant to her. He was her best friend. They had spent every day playing together, going on adventures, telling jokes and stories, laughing, singing, and playing games in their own beautiful world. She remembered him so fondly.

And she remembered that she loved him.

She loved him with all her heart. He was the best friend that she had ever had. She cried out with how much she loved him; his smile, his laughter, his drawings, his heart. She wept openly, sobbing with joy at remembering how much she cared for him.

As she wiped away the tears from her face, she realized something else: her hand had changed.

Squinting at her hand in the darkness, she could just barely make out the details of her human fingers. She felt her face; it was wet, but not slimy, as it had been when she fell. She gasped in surprise; the curse was broken. She was human again. She was herself again.

But how did it happen?

Then it came to her: Jess.

The cure for the frog-curse was love's true delight, not the kiss of true love, as she had thought. Remembering her love for Jess, appreciating it, reveling in it, delighting in it had restored her humanity. Her devotion to him had cured her and allowed her to be herself again. She smiled and laughed in delight at her newfound freedom. Jess had saved her from the Witch's spell. She was restored.

She looked around in the darkness at the kingdom around her, at her kingdom.

She now knew that she was not a stranger in a strange land; she was in Terabithia.

She was not some intruder trespassing in someone else's magical world; she was in her own world. She had loved it, named it, and even helped to create it, along with her best friend Jess. Then, she had a horrible realization: She had forgotten everything about him.

That knowledge suddenly coming into her mind caused her to cry all the more. The tears now falling from her face were not of the joy of loving him, but were of the shame of having forgotten him, someone so special that she would have done anything to make him as happy as he had made her, someone who had meant so much to her that she never even thought once that she would ever be able to forget him.

But she had.

She had forgotten him, just as she had forgotten her parents, just as she had forgotten herself. She had only the dreams she had had since living on the farm to recall him and how much she had loved him. She had loved him with all her heart.

And she had forgotten him.

But why had he forgotten her?

Why hadn't he come searching for her when she disappeared? Why had he given a crown to May Belle, of all people? They had never gotten along before. It didn't make any sense.

Then she remembered the conversation she had had with Ann Marie.

Leslie realized that she was the little girl who had fallen into the river, the little girl that everyone had thought was dead. She also realized that Jess must have thought that she was dead, too, and that's why he hadn't come looking for her and the thought of him having to deal with her death made her sick. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him. She tried not to imagine what it would be like to lose him.

But then, she didn't have to imagine; she had lost him, and herself, for awhile.

But still, death was so much worse. It was so final. It was so much more than simply disappearing. Leslie realized that he must have been heartbroken by her loss and having to go on with his life without her. She cried all the more for having left him all alone in the world, even if she hadn't done it on purpose, and even if he seemed to have somehow recovered.

She didn't know how long she had cried, but eventually she heard a voice calling out to her. It wasn't calling her name; it was calling for who they still thought she was.

The voice was calling for Anna.

It was Tom, she realized. She also realized that she hadn't gone to leave him the note, having been knocked unconscious. _"That must be why he's looking for me," _she thought.

Even though she knew that it wasn't really her name, Leslie answered, anyway. "Here!" she called out. "I'm here, Tom!"

A moment later, a flashlight's beam struck her eyes. Before she could react, she felt Tom's muscular arms scooping her up, holding her to his massive chest in a warm hug.

She could barley see with the sudden changing of light to darkness, but when she gazed up at him, Leslie thought that she could see tears in his eyes. She realized that he must have been worried about her, and she felt very guilty for not having had the wits to have come home sooner. She clung to him as he asked if she was alright.

"Never better," she said with a smile. "And I'm really glad to see you, Tom."

She meant every word.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jess tucked May Belle into bed. It was way past her bedtime and approaching Jess' and they were both very tired from hunting and playing.

As he turned around to leave, she abruptly sat up. "Jess," she asked. He turned and faced her, doing his best to hide the irritation that was probably written on his face.

"What is it, May Belle," he asked, contritely.

"Do you miss Leslie?"

The question was so unexpected that Jess had to take a moment to recover his senses before responding. His answer came as a soft whisper. "Yes," he said, "sometimes I do."

May Belle yawned. "Me too," she said, before laying back down. Jess returned to her bedside and stroked her long brown hair. He smiled to himself.

Despite her persistence in asking odd questions at odd hours, and her ability to annoy him like no one else could, she had become the single most important person in the world to him, after Leslie's death. He didn't know what he would have done without her.

But she was right; he still missed Leslie. Jess leaned down close to whisper in his little sister's ear.

"We can visit her anytime we want. Just close your eyes, but keep your mind wide open," he cooed, before putting the covers over her again and walking to the door. He had just reached the threshold when her voice called out to him again.

"Jess?" she asked.

"Yes?" he said, irritation seeping into his tone.

"Doesn't it bother you that they never found her body?"

Jess' body went rigid. He stood stunned; he had never heard that before.

"Who told you that, May Belle?" he asked, his voice stained with disbelief.

May Belle looked at him as if he were teasing her again. Jess realized that it must have been common knowledge that had somehow avoided coming to his attention. He couldn't understand how he could never have heard something so astounding. He thought that he had known everything about his best friend's death. Now, he was discovering that he didn't know half as much as he thought he did, or as much as May Bell apparently knew.

Just then, Jess unintentionally gave her a look that made her want to continue telling him what she knew. It was a penetrating gaze that always seemed to work on anyone he used it on and Jess had put it to good use on the bullies at school. He hadn't needed to raise his fist against another student since that time that he had punched Scott Hoager in the face.

The look he gave May Belle made her want to answer him, but it also seemed to make her afraid that he would strike her down with the Wrath of God himself if the answer in any way displeased him. He relaxed his raptor gaze and she seemed to ease up a bit.

At last she answered the question which must have been burning in his eyes.

"Mom told me," she said simply. "I asked her what she would do if what happened to Leslie ever happened to me. She said that she couldn't have survived something like that because she loved me so much. Then she said that what happened to Leslie's Mom and Dad was so much worse because they only had one daughter and because she was so special."

Jess couldn't argue with that; he knew how special Leslie was and he had loved her for it. He wanted to talk about how special she was, to help to keep her memory alive, but he didn't want to interrupt May Belle's story and keep her up much later than he already had, so he simply smiled at the memory of his best friend and let his sister go on with her tale.

"Then Mom said that what happened to the Burkes was so much worse than just losing their only daughter, because they never found her body and they couldn't give her a proper burial. She said that they never even got to say goodbye to her because of that."

Jess understood the pain of what they had experienced. He had felt it himself, along with the guilt and shame of knowing that he had not been there to prevent her death.

How many times had she needed him, and he had been there? How many times had he saved her from being devoured by the Sqogures, or snatched up by the Hairy Vultures, or stomped into jelly by the Giant Eighth-Graders? How many times had she called out to him? How many times had he answered? How many times had he saved her life?

He only ever failed her once, but it was enough; it was enough to lose her forever.

May Belle's next statement made him believe that his little sister could read his mind.

"It wasn't your fault, Jess," she said, solemnly.

He looked up from his aching memories and blinked at her. "What did you say?"

She stared at him and repeated herself. "Leslie's dying; it wasn't your fault."

He looked away from her intent gaze and ignored her heartfelt statement.

How could she understand? How could he explain to her the lessons that he had learned from his mistake? How could he make her understand the true nature of responsibility?

She was just a child. What did she know of responsibility? All it took was giving her a couple of Twinkies every now and then and she was happy. She didn't understand. She couldn't possibly understand; not at all.

He decided to try to explain it to her as best he could, even though he knew that she wouldn't truly understand the nature of responsibility until she was much older.

"It _was_ my fault," he whispered.

"Daddy said it wasn't," she argued.

"He was wrong, May Belle," Jess responded, with quiet authority. "It was my fault for not being there for Leslie when she needed me the most."

As he turned his head away, Jess could feel the tears of guilt, shame and anguish welling up in his eyes, and he was grateful that May Belle couldn't see them in the shadow that now covered his face.

Lost in the torrent of his memories, his words came forth without hesitation.

"She always needed me," he whispered, despondently, "and I failed her."

"Jess, you can blame yourself for what happened to—"

"I made a choice, May Belle!" he shouted, cutting her off. "It was short-sighted and it was selfish and if I hadn't been so blind to the truth, then Leslie would still be alive!"

He turned to face her again and he saw that she was on the verge of tears herself. He took a deep breath and composed himself. He tried to blink away the tears as he once more attempted to explain the meaning of responsibility to this confused little girl, who was only trying to help.

He addressed her as both his baby sister, and as the Princess he knew her to be, as he sat on at the edge of her bed and looked her square in the eye.

When she cringed, he spoke softly to her.

"May Belle, the true essence of freedom is found in taking responsibility for the choices you make. By first accepting the fact that you have a choice, you can then make your future choices with conscious intent, thus shaping your life."

May Belle considered this for a moment before responding with a smile.

"Wow, Jess," she said, wonder lighting her expression. "Where did you ever learn such a wonderful lesson?"

Jess smiled proudly. "Leslie taught it to me, when she died. It was her final gift to me."

Jess' smile faded then, as he stared off into his nightmare memories.

"It was a lesson purchased with terrible pain," he whispered.

"But that is what makes it so special," May Belle offered.

Jess smiled at her for having unwittingly echoed the last words of his best friend's poem.

"Okay," he said, "that's enough ancient wisdom for you tonight, Little Princess. It's time for you to get some sleep."

He leaned in and kissed May Belle goodnight as she lay back down, and, after smirking at the exaggerated grossed-out face that she was making in reaction to the kiss, he walked to the door, uninterrupted this time, and, bidding her a goodnight, he turned off the light.

As he closed the door, one thing was absolutely certain to Jess Aarons: he would never fail to protect May Belle from the unforeseen dangers of this harsh and unforgiving world. He would never fail to be there for her when she needed him most.

If only, when Leslie had been alive, he had possessed the maturity to be so careful.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Leslie Burke awoke with a smile. Stretching her arms and legs, she yawned and looked out the window at the bright new day. She smiled to herself. This was the first day that she was herself again.

This was the first day that she was Leslie Burke again.

This was the first day that she would get to spend with Jess.

Leslie smiled more. She knew that Jess had thought that she was dead, and, although that thought had at first caused her considerable pain, it now brought to her a delightful feeling of giddiness, because it gave her the chance to surprise him. She knew that he would drop his jaw when he saw her again and she silently hoped that his jaw would be all that he dropped.

As Leslie giggled at the thought of her best friend pooping his pants at the sight of her, she climbed out of bed and took a shower. The water was warm and it felt wonderful to be fresh and clean again; she wanted to be at her best for her meeting with Jess.

As she came downstairs for breakfast, she found Anna Marie cooking scrambled eggs with a side of bacon. She also discovered a large platter of pancakes that had been placed on the table for her. She smiled at the sight and sat down next to Tom, who was reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. Leslie greeted him with a wave.

When Tom noticed her, he returned her greeting and said that the papers were reporting of a strange and unexpected occurrence in the Lark Creek area.

Apparently, a little girl who was thought lost forever had miraculously returned to her hometown, and her "devilishly handsome" caretaker was now in the process of tracking down her parents to tell them the good news and to bring them home to her.

Leslie realized that this was Tom's way of reporting on the events that had been taking place that morning. She sat down next to him and asked him if the "boastful caretaker" had had any luck in tracking them down and bringing them home to their beautiful, intelligent, creative, artistic, inspirational, perfect daughter, who missed them both so very, very much.

Tom the reporter had to report failure with the initial attempts, because, apparently, when they had learned of their daughters reported death, her parents had been so heart-broken that they had gotten a divorce and went to different places to start new lives.

Leslie wasn't too shocked by this news; she had always sort of assumed that her parents would be lost without her. It was no big deal. When they found out that she was still alive, they would come home and then everything would be set back to right again.

The only thing that still weighed on her mind was what to do about Jess.

Leslie knew that she would get only one chance to surprise him and she wanted to make it good. She knew there were many different ways that she could go about doing it.

She thought about heading over to his house and "borrowing a cup of surrealism" but that joke wasn't very good and the surprise needed to be more than just: "Hello, Jess, I'm alive, not dead, like you thought. How've you been?"

No. She decided that this would have to be grander than that. It would have to be something special. It would have to be something… memorable.

As she dug into her pancakes, Leslie realized that she knew the perfect place for her to surprise Jess: The Bridge to Terabithia.

She knew exactly how to lure him there, and exactly what to do when he showed up. It would only be a matter of arranging the meeting, and then he would have the surprise of his life. _"This is going to be so much fun!"_ she thought, gleefully, as she swallowed a big bite of her pancakes.

It occurred to her that Jess had found her on the bridge a while back, in the rain, but he had failed to recognize her. He had said something when he had seen her face, something that she couldn't make-out over the sound of the thunder and lightning.

Leslie figured that he must have said her name, because a moment later, he had fainted. Leslie remembered thinking that she had killed him on that bridge, and running away into the woods, to live as a frog-girl thief. It all seemed to be so silly to her now.

She was the rightful ruler of Terabithia, and she had been running around like some crazed fugitive. Of course, it didn't help that she'd been cursed, but still, she felt foolish.

Thank goodness Jess hadn't known about it. She knew that he would, but she realized that it was just the price she would have to pay for seeing him again and she knew that it would be more than worth it.

As she finished her pancakes and stood up from the table, Leslie handed her plate to Ann Marie and grabbed the phone. It was finally time.

As she dialed the number, she grunted and coughed, until she had a sizeable amount of phlegm in her throat. She tested her voice a little until she was sure that she sounded like the frog-girl again. When the phone stopped ringing, she heard Jess' voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" he said, casually.

"Hello, Jess," she said in her croaky tone.

"Wait, who is this?" he demanded.

"Anna. Anna, the frog-girl," she responded. "I've got an offer for you."

"What are you talking about?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"Meet me at the bridge in twenty minutes, or I'll tell everyone in town about your secret kingdom."

Leslie held the phone away from her ear as her old friend screamed a threat into his end of the line. She had never heard him use language like that before. She guessed that his parents weren't there to stop him from saying such things to her. As the yelling seem to die down, she catiously held the phone to her face, and gave him a final warning.

"Twenty minutes," she croaked, before hanging up the phone on his angry threats.

Leslie cleared her throat and giggled with excitement.

This was going to be so much fun.

* * *

As Jess Aarons marched toward Terabithia, his was heart ablaze with fury. He couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

When he had awoken that morning, he had been in such a good mood. But that good mood had evaporated in the burning rage storming through his soul. He still couldn't believe it; he was being used.

Of all the lowdown, sneaking, underhanded things the frog-girl could have done, this had to be the worst. He was not going to let her destroy the secret of his Kingdom.

She had no right to even be there, and he wasn't going to let her destroy everything that he and Leslie had built. Jess would stop her from using him. He would keep Terabithia a secret; even if he had to tie up the frog-girl and throw her into the river.

As he reached the bridge, he could see that she was already there, waiting for him.

Jess cursed himself for having taken the time to shower and change into his good clothes. He had lost the element of surprise, but he had not wanted to face this monster in his pajamas, stinking to high heavens. He would face her as he truly was; as a King.

Stepping up onto the bridge, his bridge, he noticed that her hood was up and that she was gazing out at the creek. He thought that maybe he had taken her by surprise, and for the briefest of moments, he considered sneaking up behind her and pushing her into the river.

Her frog-voice made him stop when he was only halfway to her.

"About time you got here," she croaked. She didn't turn to face him.

"What do you want," Jess demanded, doing his best to keep his anger in check.

"Not much," she croaked, "just an apology."

Jess couldn't believe it. He hadn't done anything that he should have to apologize for. If anything, _she_ owed _him_ an apology for putting him through all this torment. He decided to play along until he could figure out what it was that she really wanted.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said, nonchalantly.

Jess was surprised by the fact that he actually meant it. He seemed to calm down a bit and he felt a sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt since Leslie was alive. It felt weird. Something strange was happening, he knew, but he couldn't identify it.

The coat she was wearing and the way she smelled, not foul, like he had expected, but oddly sweet, like strawberries, were so familiar to him. He suddenly realized that he was having the feeling better known as Déjà vu.

"Oh, I think that you can do better than that, Jess Aarons," the evil frog-girl croaked.

Jess blinked. That was one coincidence too many.

"How do you know my last name?" Jess asked.

The frog-girl appeared to go stiff. It was obvious that she hadn't meant to reveal that bit of information yet. She paused, and seemed to be trying to find the words to answer him.

Before she could answer, Jess asked her another question.

"How did you get my phone number?"

"Well," she croaked, "I, uh…"

"And how did you know where I live?"

"I just, um, I, uh, well, I, um, uh…"

Jess stepped towards her. He didn't know what was going on here, but he knew one thing: this little game was ending, now. He grabbed frog-girl by the shoulders and spun her around to face him.

"What do you want from me?!" he shouted into her frog-face.

Just then, her hood fell back, revealing her head of short blonde hair. Jess realized that her face wasn't the face of a frog-girl. It was the face of a human girl; a very familiar human girl.

The very familiar human-girl smiled a very familiar human-girl smile.

Jess' young mind struggled to take in this new and seemingly impossible information. His eyes met hers, but they were not the yellow bulging eyes of a frog-girl; they were the blue-green eyes of someone he had once known so well and had loved so much. Jess had lost track of the number of times that he had dreamt of the eyes that were staring back at him, now.

As she smiled her sheepish grin, Jess knew beyond doubt that he was not dreaming.

Leslie swallowed, clearing her throat. Her voice came light and airy without the phlegm.

"Hi, Jess," she said, cheerfully.

Just a moment before Jesse Aarons passed-out it occurred to him that, surely, he must have somehow gone completely and utterly insane.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Jess Aarons awoke with a start. He felt as if his head was in a vice. The hard wooden planks under him told him that he was on the floor of the bridge. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened, at first, but as it all came flooding back, he looked around expectantly.

He didn't see any sign of the phantom that had suddenly come back into his life, but he realized that he could still smell her perfume; strawberries. Her favorite, he remembered.

"Leslie?" he called.

There was no answer.

"Leslie!" he called again.

Jess got to his feet. As he looked around, he realized that his friend was gone.

"_It's happening again,"_ he thought, as he rubbed his aching temples and closed his eyes in fustration.

Visions of his departed friend were clawing there way back into his mind, tormenting him with the uneasy sum of guilt and loneliness, just like before. Jess felt like he might throw-up. Just then, he heard something strange.

"Jess!" a voice cried.

A girl was calling out to him; a very familiar girl.

"Jess!" she called again.

As the sound of her voice echoed throughout the early morning air, Jess realized that she sounded worried; as if she were in trouble and needed his help.

Jess knew he wasn't dreaming.

He also knew that he wasn't experiencing Déjà vu; this had happened before.

Shortly after Leslie had died, he had thought that he had heard her voice calling out to him. He remembered chasing the sound of her voice and being confused to find that it was only his little sister May belle, trapped on a log that she was trying to crossover on her way into Terabithia.

Jess also remembered, rather guiltily, pushing her down and yelling at her to go home. She had done so in tears and Jess had then run off into the woods to find his old friend, only to find the cold, hard truth of her absence.

Of course, they had never actually found her body.

No one had, he had learned, and Jess thought maybe there was a good reason for that.

As the sound grew closer, Jess felt a strange mixture of feelings rising inside of him. He felt a sense of familiarity with the echoing sound of the girl's voice, along with a taste of anticipation, limited by caution, and spiced with a growing sense of dread at what she might have to say to him if she really was coming back from the grave to haunt him.

He also felt a sense of expectant hope burning inside his chest so bright and strong, that he knew that it could only be fueled by his own desperate love for the blonde-haired girl of his dreams.

As the girl came around the tree near the edge of the woods, Jess felt a lump rise in his throat. His breath caught before he could whisper the word that was on the tip of his tongue. The girl stopped just a few feet away from him.

She looked at him and blinked.

The girl wasn't Leslie.

The girl was May belle.

As Jess regained his composure and his sense of reality, May Belle looked at him with what appeared to be a strange mixture of giddy relief and irksome annoyance.

"There you are!" she said, planting her tiny fists on her hips. "I called you three times!"

Jess couldn't respond. He had been so sure that Leslie…

He was being silly, he knew.

Leslie was gone. She was gone, and she wasn't coming back; because of him.

It was his fault that she was gone and it was his fault that his guilt was causing him to hallucinate; he had no one to blame but himself, he knew. Jess suddenly felt more alone than he had when he had first learned that Leslie had died.

He knew he would never hear the end of this, especially after having told May belle the previous night about accepting the world for what it is, not the way we wish it would be.

As May belle came forward, Jess took hold of her and gave her a big hug. This was reality and Jess knew that he best hold on to it or risk losing his sanity.

"Jess," May Belle asked after they had separated. "What's wrong?"

He looked back at the bridge for a long moment.

"Nothing," he sighed. "Nothing's wrong. Let's go home."

As they began walking home, Jess considered if maybe he should tell his little sister about the strange dream he had experienced while on the bridge, but he truly didn't know what was real anymore. The frog-girl had escaped from him, he knew; if she had existed at all—Jess wasn't entirely sure that she did anymore. Maybe she was just another dream or a hallucination or something. Just then, another possibility occurred to him: Maybe he really had gone mad.

There was one thing that he was sure about, though: if there really was a frog-girl thief in his Kingdom, then Jess would not rest until she was found; and fried.

* * *

Leslie watched as her old best friend and his little sister made their way home. She was so disappointed in Jess, but more so, she was disappointed in herself. She had only gone to the river's edge for a moment, when he and May belle had found each other and had taken off towards home. 

Leslie had just stood there, watching from her hiding place in the woods, waiting for him to come find her. She was so sure that he would. She had never known him to give up so easily. It hurt her to discover that he would, and, more so, that he would give up on her, of all people.

As she wrang out her grandmother's embroidered silk handkerchief, she thought about what she would do next. Every time she got close to Jess, he would faint. It was as if he truly didn't want to see her anymore. Leslie felt as if her heart were breaking at the thought of Jess not liking her anymore. She was so sure that he cared about her, but now…

Leslie reprimanded herself. She was being silly. Of course Jess still cared about her. He had once cared a great deal for her. He just forgot or something, that was all. She just had to remind him of how much she meant to him and how much he meant to her.

But how?

She thought about maybe sneaking into his bedroom in the middle of the night, but that idea was too crazy. She didn't want to scare his whole family and end up being shot to death by Jess' gun-toting father when they thought that the 'Zombie-Leslie' had come to murder their only son and eat his brains for dinner.

Besides, she really didn't think that appearing to him in the middle of the night would be any less disturbing to her old friend than the way she had just tried to reconnect with him.

"_Maybe,"_ she thought, _"I could just have Tom invite him over for dinner."_

That sounded much more sensible to her, and, after checking the silk handkerchief and judging it to be reasonably dry, she stuffed it into her coat pocket and headed for home.

As she walked leisurely across the lush, green fields, she thought about her best friend's reaction, and what it might mean for their future together, or if they even had one.

Jess would take her back, she knew. He had to take her back. She was his best friend, and best friends don't forget about each other. Not ever.

"Unless, of course, they think you're dead," she said, to no one in particular.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Okay, so I kept it going a litte bit longer. I know that I teased you, but there are some more things that I want to happen before they can get back together. They are getting closer together though, and, very soon, they will be reunited; you have my word on that.**

**In the next few chapters, you can expect to see a confrontation between Jess and his father, a return of long lost relatives, a budding romance between two favorite characters (Not Jess and Leslie) and, of course, the event you've all been waiting for: the reunion of the century.**

**Now for the bad news:**

**I know that you don't want to hear this, but I'm planning on taking a bit of personal time, becase of the upcoming holiday season. I have a lot of things to do and there are several other Terabithia stories that I want to get started on. But don't worry: this one will always be a top priority.**

**Expect the next chapters to come sometime in (early) January. I know that you think that it's not fair, but keep in mind that I have provided a slew of great chapters on a weekly basis since this story began. Can anyone else make that claim?**

**I have worked very, very hard for three (and a half) months on this story and I think that I've earned a small vacation to spend some time on some other things, don't you?**

**I am going to continue working on this story, and, when the next chapters arrive, they will (probably) be at the normal one-a-week pace until this story is finished.**

**Please keep in mind that even God took Sunday off to rest.**

**I don't plan on debuting the other stories until they are complete, so as to show them without having to take any more breaks. Expect them to be of an even better quality than this one, as my skills as a story-teller are improving all the time. This story is just like practice to me. : )**

**I would like to thank you all for being so kind in your reveiws and for believeing in me when I needed it the most.**

**Goodbye for now, happy holidays, and I'll see you all in Terabithia!**


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

It was mid-morning by the time Leslie returned home. Tom was on the phone and before she could ask him who he was talking to, Ann Marie shushed her. This was obviously something of great importance, Leslie realized, so she just walked silently into the living room and sat down on the couch. Ann Marie joined her.

As Tom continued his phone conversation, Leslie looked back at the fire-wall and smiled. There were some happy memories attached to that wall and she cherished them greatly. Jess had been there when they had painted it and being in the same place as he once had been gave Leslie a special feeling of comfort and hope.

She would find a way to get him back. She just needed some time to work it all out.

After all they had been through and all that they had shared, she couldn't believe that he didn't want to see her again. He was probably just confused and scared, thinking maybe she was some phantom come to haunt him from beyond the grave.

In a way, she was. She had almost died in the creek two months ago, almost never had a chance to see her best friend again. Now, they were finally going to see each other and be together again. He would be so happy to see her alive and well.

If she only could get him to stop fainting every time he saw her face.

At times like these, she was glad to have Tom and Ann Marie's help. They were always willing to assist her whenever she needed them and they never asked her for anything in return. In spite of their kindness, Leslie still found that she missed her parents, though.

As she pondered where they might be or what they might be up to at that moment, Tom hanged up the phone and came into the living room. He looked frustrated, she realized, and she wondered what could possibly be troubling him. Before she could ask him, he answered.

"I found your parents, Leslie," he said with a sigh.

Leslie was on the edge of her seat. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She wanted to ask him what it was, but she was afraid what the answer would be. Leslie realized that the look on Tom's face was the same look he had when he had come out of the hospital room and told her that her grandmother had died. She didn't like the way her stomach felt at that moment and she wished Tom would say something to alleviate her anxiety.

Leslie's heart was in her throat as she listened helplessly to Tom's news. His words came forth as relentlessly as a hurricane. "Leslie," he said, "I'm afraid your parents are dead."

Leslie couldn't breathe. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she thought she might faint. It wasn't possible. This couldn't be happening. It felt as if her whole world was crumbling around her. It took a moment before she heard Tom's words come again.

"They weren't really easy to track down," he said. "But they're on their way here and they're really glad that you're alive. They're very excited to see you again, Leslie."

Leslie blinked. She didn't understand. She was reasonably sure that Tom had just told her the worst possible news, and now he was telling her something completely different.

She shook her head and tried to focus her thoughts.

"What did you say?"

"I said that your parents weren't easy to track down, but I managed to reach them and tell them what's happened. They're on their way home, now. Isn't that wonderful?"

"That is wonderful, Tom," she said, as she stood and embraced him in a warm hug. Ann Marie joined in, squishing her between the two of them, before heading off into the kitchen to prepare lunch. She hummed a merry tune as she went.

The group-hug wasn't at all unpleasant to her and Leslie found it to be similar to the ones her parents used to give her. She missed them so much. The only thing that would have been more wonderful than having them returned to her was if Jess had been with her to share the good news of her parent's imminent return.

Leslie missed Jess even more than she missed her parents and she idly wondered what he had been up to since she had been away. He certainly seemed to have grown closer to his sister. She had honestly never thought he would come to appreciate her. Leslie smiled to herself; she was very glad that he had finally realized how important she was.

Leslie had always wanted to bring May belle to Terabithia with them, but Jess had always stubbornly refused. May belle wasn't really her sister after all, so Leslie never really felt that she had the right to invite her, and she didn't want to try to out-vote Jess and make him feel uncomfortable by bringing her along against his wishes, so Leslie just kept hoping that Jess would change his mind about her and bring her along.

Finally, he had.

She just wished that she had been there the first day that he had taken her to Terabithia.

She had missed so much; school, games, laughing and learning. But most of all, she had missed Jess. He was her whole world and she needed him to feel complete.

But every time she would get close to him, he would faint. It was so frustrating to be so close to him and yet still be so far away. There seemed to be no solution—at least none that she could think of on her own. She sighed heavily against Tom's stomach.

"What's wrong," Tom said as she he held her tightly.

"It's Jess," she moaned. "He doesn't want me to be his friend anymore."

"What makes you say that?"

Leslie parted from him and looked away. "He keeps fainting every time he sees me. I don't think he likes me anymore."

She felt Tom's big hand squeeze her shoulder, sympathetically. She wanted to smile for him, to show him how courageous she was in the face of such adversity, but, given the circumstances, she just couldn't manage to show him her brave face. She just wanted to cry.

"I don't think that he's given up on you. And I don't think that it's fair for you to give up on him, either," he whispered. Leslie smiled at his compassionate tone.

As Tom turned her around to face him, Leslie held back her tears and tried with everything she had not to sob; she desperately didn't want Tom to see her like this.

Against her earnest wises and greatest efforts, a single teardrop managed to escape from her control and slide down her cheek to drip off of her chin. Tom caught it with a finger before it hit the floor and held it up in front of her face. Then, he smiled in a weird way.

"Make a wish," he cooed.

Leslie struggled to hold back the other tears as they attempted to fight their way out of her eyes and down her face. She didn't know what Tom was talking about, but he at least had her attention. She was so curious about what he was saying that she forgot all about her shameful tears, at least for the moment.

"What?" she sniffled.

Tom smiled. "When you cry for a loved one you've lost, the first teardrop that you shed has a special kind of magic invested within its essence. As long as someone you know catches it before it hits the floor, you get to make a wish."

Leslie smiled at Tom's imagination. He seemed to her to have a wonderful mix of ancient wisdom and child-like delight and she wondered if this was how Jess had seen her when she first spoke of Terabithia and of freeing the prisoners of the Dark Master.

Tom was doing an amazing job of lifting her spirits and she was just about to thank him for that, when he suddenly said something that was completely unexpected and totally outrageous.

"Of course, it only works for your one true love," he said, nonchalantly, as a teasing smile played across his ruggedly handsome features.

Upon hearing this, Leslie could feel her whole face turning bright red.

"He is not my love!" she shouted in protest, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear her. In the kitchen, Ann Marie dropped a plate at the sudden noise and cursed aloud as the dish shattered on the floor. She turned to scowl into the living room, and Leslie wasn't entirely sure that she was angry with only her brother. Leslie didn't care; Tom had gone too far that time.

Growling in frustration at his triumphant grin, Leslie took off towards the door, her scowling face glowing brightly.

As she stormed out of the house, Leslie looked back and caught sight of Tom's mischievous grin. She flashed him an indignant scowl and did her best to maintain her anger at his brazen and completely unfounded accusation, despite her feelings of mirth trying to bubble their way to the surface. She could feel her face heating even more intensely by the moment. As she walked out the door and down the steps, she could hear Tom's voice calling after her.

"Hey, you forgot to make a wish!"

"Right now, I wish you'd never been born!" she shouted back. Her response was crueler than she had intended, but she didn't feel too guilty; she reasoned that it was what he deserved after what he had just said to her.

As she headed down the road, Leslie couldn't help but to feel relieved. She knew what Tom had been trying to do and she was grateful that it had worked.

With his mischievous and completely unfounded accusation, he had gotten her to forget all about her melancholy over having lost her best friend; at least for the moment.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Where in God's name have you been?"

Jess flinched at his father's tone. He never liked it when his father spoke to him like this, and lately, he had been doing it more often than not.

Jess didn't under understand exactly what was happening. His father should have been at work, he knew, but seeing him standing there, glaring down at him, it was obvious to Jess that he was mistaken. Before he could ask his father what he was doing home so early on a working day, he started in on him again.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Jess hesitated, and, as the interminable moments seemed to pass before him, his only wish was that he had never come home. He tried to think of what to say, but he was in such a state of total shock, such surprise, that he had trouble focusing his thoughts. He knew that his father didn't look pleased, but then, he never did.

Jess wasn't sure what it was his father didn't like about him, he just wished that he could please him, somehow. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't make his father like him. He seemed to find Jess' mere existence detestable and he had absolutely no qualms about expressing his resentful feelings toward his only begotten son.

Jess suspected that his father was just grouchy about whatever it was that had brought him home from work. He still couldn't fathom what it could have been. As Jess looked up at his father in complete, absolutely befuddled confusion, he noticed that the truck that his father loved more than him was parked near the greenhouse. Upon seeing the greenhouse, the reason for his father's anger became very apparent; he had forgotten to do his chores.

After having spent the morning running to the bridge and fainting at the sight of the hideous frog-girl, Jess had lost all track of time. In all the excitement, he had completely neglected his household duties and he knew that his family would now have to pay the price.

As Jess looked up into his distressed father's eyes, trying to find the words to explain his absentminded carelessness, he realized that his father wasn't just angry with him for failing to live up to his responsibilities; he was disappointed in him as well. Jess felt awful.

As his father opened his mouth to lecture, Jess heard May belle speak up from behind him. Jess felt oddly surprised by his little sister's courage in standing up to their father, but he truly wished that she had kept quiet at that point, as he knew that he was wrong to have neglected his responsibilities in the first place. Their father was right. Jess simply didn't have a leg to stand on.

As May belle came forward in her brother's defense, he gently placed his hand on her chest and eased her back behind himself, so as to prevent her from getting into trouble as well.

It didn't stop her from protesting from the relative safety of her bigger brother's backside, though. Her voice came in a righteously defiant tone that seemed to be too forceful and assertive for someone of her limited years and diminutive stature.

"But it wasn't his fault!" she shouted, before father could start on his tirade of things that Jess had done wrong. Father was surprised by this sudden turn of events, and he gently directed his next question at the stout little defense attorney.

"Oh, really," he said skeptically. "Whose fault was it, then?"

"The frog-girl," she said simply, before her big brother could shush her.

Jess could feel his face heating.

"What?" their father asked, in genuine confusion and barely strained patience.

"Jess had to stop the frog-girl from telling about the secret kingdom," she continued, as Jess put his hand over his face and groaned. It was so embarrassing to have his personal life laid out before his disapproving father, especially at a time like this; it made him seem like a thoughtless and irresponsible child. Jess wanted to stop her from telling their father any more excuses in her vain attempt to get him out of trouble, when she continued her explanation of things she shouldn't say.

"Jess went to stop the evil frog-girl from telling people about Tera—"

"May belle!" he growled, trying to stop her not only from embarrassing him, but from revealing the secret that Leslie had entrusted to him when she left that terrible morning.

May belle flinched at his tone and hid farther back behind him, afraid to say anything that might upset her big brother and make him yell at her again.

"Hey!" their father shouted, grabbing his attention. "Jess, you don't talk to your sister like that, you understand?"

"Yeah, sorry," Jess replied, meekly. He felt worse than ever for having yelled at his baby sister whose only crime was trying to help him. He didn't understand why, but everything seemed to be falling apart. It was almost as if he were reverting to his pre-Leslie state.

Jess felt a cold flash of dark terror at the thought of things going back to the way they had once been. He thought that he was long past that nightmare, but he guessed that you never really get over your old life, now matter how hard you tried. Jess tried to block out the unpleasant memories, but, as they fled his thoughts, they left a bad taste in his mind.

He barely even heard his father as he continued to lecture him about his responsibilities to his family.

"…and I need to know that I can count on you when I'm not around," he finished.

Jess nodded solemnly. As he hung his head in shame, he realized that he didn't feel like the great King he had once considered himself to be. At that point, he felt only like a helpless little orphan, a slave-boy being ordered around by his evil master. He had no rights and he knew that he didn't deserve any. He was property, being used as was necessary and he had no choice about any of it and no chance of escaping his fate.

His father finished his tirade with his usual line about him "getting his head out of the clouds and doing as he was told," before starting away towards the house.

Jess was sure to see his father close the door behind himself, before he moved or responded in any way.

"I love you too, Dad," Jess grumbled, sarcastically, as he headed for the greenhouse. May belle followed.

As he began walking amongst the plants and flowers, he heard his little sister call him timidly from the entrance. "Jess…?" she ventured.

Jess sighed. He really didn't feel like dealing with her at the moment, but, like everything else in his life, he realized that he had no choice about it, one way or the other.

"Look, I already know what you're gonna say; Dad loves me, he just has a hard time showing it and I should just trust him and try to be patient with him, right?"

There was a moment of silence before she answered.

"Actually, I was gonna tell you that daddy did your chores before you got home."

Jess sighed. That was the first good news he had heard all day, but, somehow, it made him feel worse about himself. He didn't really understand why, though.

Jess reasoned that it was because he didn't want his father doing his work for him, making him feel helpless and stupid, like a big baby. Or maybe that he was disappointing his father, again. Maybe it was a combination of both of those feelings. Jess reasoned that done was done and that he should stop feeling sorry for himself. One thing still bothered him, though.

As he casually strolled through his private garden, with his hands clasped behind his back, King Jess pondered the mystery of their patriarch's unexpected return. He suspected that the little Princess might know more than she had revealed and he decided to ask her about it as he leaned over some of the more prominent flowers coming into bloom.

"Princess, pray, tell what father is doing home at this ungodly hour?" he asked, trying to sound as kingly and official as possible.

"Huh?" was her only response.

"What's dad doing home? He's supposed to be at work!" he snapped, frustrated with having to repeat the question in peasant-speak.

"Oh," she said, understanding at last. "Daddy said they gave him the day off cause of the fire," she nodded.

Jess froze in mid-stride. "What did you say?"

"I said they gave him the day off," she shrugged.

"No, no," Jess said, shaking his head. "Not that part, the part about the fire. Did he say that there _was _a fire, or that he _got_ fired?"

May belle pondered the question for a few heart pounding moments before she repeated what she had been told by both their mother and their father.

"He said that there was an electric fire and that they gave him the day off. He said he goes back to work tomorrow."

Jess sighed in relief. For a moment, Jess had believed that his family had lost their only source of income. Composing himself, he turned and continued his tour of the garden.

As he walked through the greenhouse, checking on the growth of the plants, Jess stopped in front of the single rose that he had spent most of the summer cultivating. Standing tall in its solitary pot of soil, it looked to be almost in bloom. Finding the trimming shears in the usual place, he placed them beside the plant and resolved that tomorrow would be the day that he would cut the flower.

The time was almost upon him. Jess thought he might die from the anticipation of the sweet release that it would bring. He was so enthralled with the rose, and what it represented, that he didn't even notice May belle as she stepped up beside him. She stared as he did at the rose that meant so much to both of them.

"It's very pretty," she said, simply.

"Yes," he whispered, reverently. "Yes, it is."

May belle smiled up at him. "I think she would have liked it."

Jess didn't have to ask who she was talking about; she knew that the rose was grown for Leslie, to honor her and everything she had done for them. Tomorrow, Jess would cut the rose and drop it from the bridge, into the river, where it would float away to wherever Leslie was, and, hopefully, she would find it and know that they still cared for her.

Jess didn't actually believe that the rose would go all the way to heaven, but, as his mother would say, it's the thought that counts. Jess wanted to remember Leslie and honor her for the sacrifice that she had made on his behalf. He wanted to tell her how much he cared about her, about how much he missed her and how sorry he was for having let her die, but he doubted that a single rose, even if it did somehow manage to find its way to paradise, could possibly make her understand how much he still cared for her. Jess felt the tears welling up again as he stared longingly at the rose in front of him. He so wished that Leslie could see it.

As Jess felt a single teardrop fall from his face, he caught sight of May belle's movement out of the corner of his eye. With a single tiny finger, she caught the teardrop and held it up to him with a smile. He frowned at her in a curious way and asked her what she was doing.

"Make a wish, Jess," she said, cheerfully.

"What?" he asked, absently.

"When you cry for someone you love, you get to wish on the first teardrop you catch, as long as you catch it before it hits the ground."

"Who told you that, May belle?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Ms. Edmunds told me."

"When did she tell you that, exactly?"

"When Leslie died."

Jess smiled. It was clear to him that he wasn't the only one who had been affected by Leslie's death; she had been loved by many. He hugged his little sister and told her that he didn't need to wish for anything, that he had everything he needed right there. She hugged him back and told him to wish for a present for her then, if he didn't want anything for himself.

He laughed through his tears and hugged her more tightly as she smiled up at her big brother, who meant as much to her as Leslie had once meant to him.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"You're doing it again."

Jess looked up from his favorite book, startled by his little sister's disruption. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes for a moment before responding to her irksome comment.

"Doing what?" he asked, contritely.

"Moving around," she complained. "You keep fidgeting."

Jess peered at her over his book and saw her sitting next to her bed. From his higher vantage point atop his own bed, he could clearly see that she was hard at work at her little table, laboring over her latest drawing. He also saw that she seemed to be having some unknown trouble with her latest masterpiece. Jess had offered to help her on any number of occasions, of course, but this one, she had said, was a drawing that she wanted to complete all by herself.

He had smiled at her determination, and, even though she had not shared with him the secret of the picture's subject, Jess already had a pretty good idea of what it was she wanted to draw. Or rather, _who_ it was she wanted to draw.

Still, she continued to complain about the subject's posture, as he shifted his weight and scratched the back of his neck.

"Stop moving around!" she whined, as she threw a crayon at him. It bounced off his head and rolled across the floor, right back to her, where she bent down and picked it up.

Rubbing the sore spot that she had created between his eyes, Jess then made a hideous face at her and he dared her to try drawing him like that. She said that she would and that it would be an improvement over how he usually looked.

Jess laughed sarcastically at his kid sister's unexpected comeback; he knew that it was a vocabulary achievement well beyond her years, and something that she must have picked up from their older sister Brenda.

As she brushed off her crayon and set back to her drawing, May belle sighed loudly. Jess knew that the sigh was a signal for him to do something to appease her, so he calmly set aside his book and asked her what was wrong.

"Nothing," she replied, casually, as she continued working on her drawing.

Jess knew from experience that this was her way of testing his commitment to solving her problems and that she expected him to prove his dedication by asking her again. He didn't take the bait and instead went back to reading his novel. May belle sighed again.

This time Jess ignored her, until she sighed a third time, so loudly that she almost woke Joyce Ann from her nap; something that Jess knew he would be blamed for if he wasn't careful to accede to her wishes. Like it or not, it was time to give in, he knew.

He thought about throwing his book at her the same way she had thrown her crayon, but quickly thought better of it; he had learned long ago that acting on your momentary wishes and whims can cost you everything.

Setting the book aside once more, he looked her in the eye and asked her earnestly what was bothering her. She looked up from her drawing and asked him how she could ever learn to draw like him if she only had a normal pad of notebook paper.

Jess leaned back and smiled at her unexpected comment; he liked it when she said that she wanted to be more like him. It was very flattering and he wished that she would say it more often, especially around other people, as it made him feel special. Even his parents would have no other choice but to acknowledge their only son's hidden greatness with an endorsement like that from their second youngest child. Still, he realized, she wasn't happy about her situation and that he had to do something or risk losing the endorsement.

As May belle pouted in that funny little way that he found to be so darn cute and folded her chubby little arms, Jess got an idea: he would give her his new sketchbook.

At least, for a little while.

They could share the sketchbook, he figured, and, as he set to digging it out from its special hiding place, he told his sister to get ready for a big surprise. As her frown melted into a helpless grin, she let out a sudden squeal and started clapping excitedly.

As Jess rooted around for it, he found a surprise of his own: the sketchbook was gone.

Sitting back on his bed, he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. It didn't make sense. He couldn't have lost it; it was brand new. He had begged his mother for it when they had shopped for his school supplies and her agreeing to buy it for him had been the only saving grace of the entire trip. It even made up for May belle getting carsick on the way home and ruining his old hand-me-down sneakers.

Now, like a curse, he had found that the treasured sketchbook was gone.

May belle asked him what was wrong and where her surprise was. He was about to say that he had lost the surprise and that he didn't know where it was, when he suddenly remembered where he had left it.

It was in Terabithia.

Jess groaned with the thought of having to hike back to his Kingdom this late in the day. He had been planning on taking some much needed time off and he didn't feel entirely up to retrieving his lost treasure from all the Sqogures and the Hairy Vultures. It would be a long and treacherous journey, he knew, and he briefly considered not going at all.

The expectant look on his kid sister's face changed his mind, however, and, before he knew it, he was on his way out the door to retrieve her promised surprise.

May belle wanted to come, but he insisted on doing this himself and that she stay and finish her drawing. She agreed and remained in their room, quietly laboring over what Jess was sure would be her finest work ever.

Coming down the stairs, he found his mother in the kitchen, preparing dinner. It was then that he realized how late it was getting and that she might not be so inclined to let him leave. He didn't risk being stopped by trying to go out the back door or by asking for the permission that he knew she probably wouldn't give to him.

Not being noticed was something to which he was accustomed, so he didn't bother to try to sneak out as he approached the front door.

As he reached for his coat hanging next to the threshold, Jess felt a sudden rumbling in his stomach. Nature was calling very loudly and before he could call to May belle that there would be a delay, he felt the need to run to the bathroom and close the door. He knew that his stomach wouldn't allow for anything until its outrageous demands were fully met and that May belle would just have to wait.

* * *

May belle gently ran her hand over the almost finished drawing. It was the best she had ever done and she felt very proud of it. She knew that Jess would like it when he finally saw it and that he would be very proud of it too. The picture portrayed her two favorite people. 

Jess was displayed sleeping in his bed, Leslie sleeping by his side, as a ghost. It was meant to be after he had built the Bridge to Terabithia and had found something that her mother called 'inner peace.'

Leslie was glowing blue, like the spirits did on that Avatar show that Jess loved to watch and she had her arm draped across Jess' belly, with her head on his shoulder and a contented smile on her sleeping face. Jess was smiling too, even though he was asleep and not actually aware of her phantom presence.

The drawing was what May belle had called _Heavenly Peace_. She held up the drawing before herself and smiled brightly. It was almost as good as anything Jess had ever done, partly because he had trained her for the past few months. The picture was her way of repaying him for everything that he had done. She knew that it belonged in a special place and that the special place in which it belonged was the castle in Terabithia.

As she finished the drawing, signing it _Princess May belle of Terabithia_, and labeling it _Heavenly Peace_, she stood up and walked downstairs. She wanted her family to see it and to tell her how good it was, even though she already knew. When May belle showed it to her mother, she almost cried with how pretty she said it was. May belle smiled then and asked her why she was so upset if she thought it was pretty.

Her mother laughed then, in an odd sort of way, and said that it made her cry because it was beautiful and that she wanted to put it on the fridge. May belle still didn't understand why her mother would cry if she was happy, but she liked the idea of the fridge-hanging.

Just then, she remembered her own plans for the drawing. She quickly took it back from her mother and told her that she didn't want to leave it where everybody could see, and that she had a special place picked out for it.

Smiling in that special way that made May belle feel happy inside, her mother stroked her long brown hair, told her that it was okay to do what she wanted to with her drawing and gave her a quick kiss before sending her on her way. May belle ran to the front door and stopped. Her father was sleeping in the living room and May belle didn't know if she could open the door without waking him.

She knew that her father wouldn't want her going off alone, especially after what had happened to Leslie, but she knew that she had to do it if she wanted to surprise Jess.

Quietly as she could, she grabbed her coat off the chair and slipped out the front door.

As she struggled to get her jacket on over her shirt, she set down her drawing. The minute she did, it took off, carried by the wind. She chased after it, snatching it out of the air just as she reached the road to Terabithia. It was a good catch and she felt even more proud than relieved that she was fast enough to catch the wind.

As she began marching towards Terabithia, she sang her new favorite song, _Journey to the Past_ from her new favorite movie, _Anastasia_. Jess had rented it once for the family and, later, he had purchased the DVD and soundtrack for her birthday a couple of weeks ago.

She had repaid him by playing them over and over and driving him crazy. He had borne the burden with a smile, saying that she could play the songs and the movie as much as she liked, if it made her happy. She did her best not to make him too crazy, and promised to only watch the movie and sing the songs when he did his homework. Her brother seemed greatly relieved for the courtesy, and he had thanked her, wholeheartedly.

Now that she was alone, she felt the freedom to sing all of the songs aloud.

Although she couldn't remember all the words to all of them, she did her best to hum over the parts that she didn't recall:

_Heart don't fail me now_

_Courage don't desert me_

_Something, something, now that we're here… _

_Something, something, something, something fear…_

She knew she wasn't as good as Anya was in the movie, but she did her best and her mother always told her that the best you could do was always good enough for her.

Still, she wished that she had one of those I-things that her brother always talked about getting. It was like having a radio strapped to your arm that could hold like a million-billion songs, according to him. She wished that she could get it for him for his birthday, so that he could lend it to her when she asked nicely and smiled big like he liked.

As she walked across the hills and into the trees, singing another of the songs about remembering who she was, or something, she suddenly switched over to that other song called, _If I Can Learn To Do It,_ because she remembered Dimitri and the big bellied person singing it as they were teaching Anya to walk straight, like she was now walking, arms outstretched for balance, as she made her way across the old fallen log towards her kingdom.

She felt so happy that she was almost there and she couldn't wait to see the sign above her kingdom's bridge because seeing it always made her smile.

By the time she laid eyes upon the magnificent structure, she had sung through all of the songs twice, except for _The Dark of the Night_, which, she remembered, was the bad guy's song.

That creepy song gave her nightmares, and, incidentally, as it was her brother's favorite song, she had often heard him singing it aloud, despite her many whining objections.

His absolute favorite thing to do, it seemed, when they were alone, was to pick her up and pretend to carry her off to hell as he sang that evil song about darkness and stuff.

She was often too scared to scream, so he kept on singing, not realizing how much it was upsetting her. Or maybe he did know, she supposed, and that's why he did it.

May belle wasn't entirely sure that he didn't like to scare her on purpose, just for fun.

She only knew that, just once, she would like to scare her big brother the way he had scared her.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Notes:**

**Dear readers, **

**By now you have probably guessed what's going to happen. Yes, May belle will find Leslie and, no, she won't faint. May belle's reaction will be somewhat surprising, but I think you will enjoy it. Jess will follow shortly after her and his little sister will get to scare him like she wishes she could. The reunion is approaching and this is not a tease.**

**I'm sorry it took so long for me to do this. When I wrote this story, I was unsure of myself and I thought that by reuniting them, the story would end, because I didn't have any further ideas to write about. I didn't want to lose my story, but I see now that what I mistook for the petulant whining of impatient fans was actually very wise council. I had dismissed your sage advice as fan desire—something never to be yielded to by any serious writer. It's as my idol, Terry Goodkind once wrote:**

"**A leader can not follow behind people, tail between his legs, sniffing for their momentary wishes and whims, whining to follow them this way and that as they ramble through life. Those kinds of people aren't looking for a leader, they are looking for a master, and one will find them.**

**A true leader forges a clear path through a moral wilderness, so that others might see the way."**

— **Terry Goodkind **

**I believe that I should have made the right decision for myself and for my story and that I was the one who was being petulant and selfish. In doing what I have done, I have broken the cardinal rule of writing: I listened to my own petty fears and insecurities instead of doing what was right for the story. I fear that my thoughtlessness and immaturity have cost me a great deal of respect and I am currently working to rectify the situation.**

**The next two or three chapters are the reunion chapters and they (Jess and Leslie) will go together into a fun-filled future. I'm just sorry it took me this long to bring them together.**

**I make no excuses for my choices, because there can be none. I was wrong.**

**I only hope that those whom I have offended can find some way to forgive me.**

**Sincerely,**

_**Mark Robert Whitten**_

_**Author, Bridge to Terabithia: The Lost Journeys**_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Leslie looked up suddenly. She thought for certain she had heard… no, it was impossible.

As she gazed out over the beautiful landscape, she listened closely for the sound she thought she had detected. The wind blew through the trees, the squirrels chattered and some birds called, but Leslie couldn't hear the sound that she thought she had heard.

Shrugging at the nothing, Leslie went back to eating the Oreo cookie she had been enjoying before she became distracted. It was good to know that the cookies that she had squirreled away were not all stale and moldy and she was pleased to have found that the castle's kitchen had been restocked as well. Finishing the crème filling, she stuffed the two now bare halves of chocolate cookie into her mouth. She chewed them slowly and savored the flavor before swallowing.

As she picked up another, reflecting back on the times that she and Jess had enjoyed eating the cookies together, she heard the sound again. It was louder this time and it sounded as if it were coming her way. She stood and looked out at the kingdom before her. There was a distinctive piercing call coming through the late afternoon air. It almost sounded like… singing.

As she climbed down from the tower, Leslie heard the sound growing and realized that it was the voice of a little girl singing a song way, way, way off-key. The voice sounded almost like a chubby little girl to whom she had once given all her old Barbie dolls.

As Leslie's high-topped-covered feet hit the ground, the sound stopped again. It began again soon after and Leslie realized that the song that she was hearing was one of her favorites called _Journey to the Past_. She remembered having sung that very song when she had been a guest on the farm. It seemed so long ago to her, now, almost like a half-forgotten dream of some magical time when she was still a helpless prisoner of the evil Wicked Witch.

Tom had taught the song to her as he had said that it was one of his favorites and that it seemed to suit her situation, since she couldn't remember who she was, like the character in the movie. He had jokingly referred to her as Anya and she had called him Dimitri.

It didn't seem possible to her now that she was hearing the last line of the song she knew so well, coming towards her at this very moment. She realized that May belle must have been at the bridge by the time piercing wail of off-key singing finally stopped and she briefly considered running into the woods to hide, in case Jess' sister fainted at the sight of her too. She knew that she had to hurry; it would only be a moment longer before she was spotted.

Running quickly through the trees, Leslie stopped suddenly. She was remembering something. It felt as if this memory of something very important was trying to claw its way to the surface of her mind and she knew that she had to wait before she tried to move again or risk throwing up. As the nausea passed, she began to remember.

It was something that Tom had told her when they were on the farm.

He had been trying to fix something and he had told her that sometimes the best way to solve a problem that couldn't be solved was by working on the problem next to it.

If she could get May belle to acknowledge the truth of her unexpected return, maybe she could convince Jess not to be so scared. It seemed reasonable to her, and, before she knew what was happening, she heard the approaching footsteps of her plump little friend.

As she turned around, she saw May belle standing just a few feet away. She realized that May belle was holding something. It looked to be a piece of drawing paper and, as she walked forward, she continued to admire it, completely unaware of her proximity to both the tree house and the blonde-haired girl.

As she looked up from her drawing paper, smiling somewhat proudly, Leslie thought, she smiled back sheepishly and gave her a little wave.

It took a few seconds for the young Aarons girl's mind to fully comprehend just what it was she was seeing, but as the total comprehension of what her eyes beheld finally began to come over her, Leslie could see the drawing paper slip absently from her fingers.

That which had only moments before seemed to have been the most important thing in the world to her, now appeared to have become completely irrelevant in the light of her latest discovery. As it floated slowly to the ground before her, Leslie could hear May belle let out a scream unlike any she had ever heard in her life.

And then she was running.

Rolling her eyes at the apparently hereditary weirdness of the Aarons children, Leslie took after her and, moments later, at the entrance to the bridge, she found herself trying with all her might to hold onto the screaming, squirming, crying form of May belle Aarons.

After only a few minutes of incoherent screams and sharp breaths, she could begin to make out words coming from between the whining sobs. It wasn't clear to her at first, but after a little while, Leslie could finally understand the sentences May belle was crying.

"You're a ghost! You're a ghost! Please don't eat me! Please don't hurt me, ghost-Leslie! Please don't hurt me! Please let me go! Please let me go! Please, please, please!"

Leslie just held her tight, trying to calm her and assure her that she wasn't going to hurt her. She cooed that it would be okay and that nothing bad would happen and it took only a few minutes of her hand covering May belle's mouth before she agreed to be silent and listen. As Leslie released her grip on the little Aarons girl, she stared up in wonder at that which her young mind knew was beyond impossible: Leslie was alive.

Sitting back on her heels, Leslie looked at her little friend and smiled. May belle just sat on the ground, her tear-stained face seemingly locked in a permanent state of shock, her glistening eyes wide with wonder at the real-life miracle sitting before her.

Leslie began to speak, but May belle interrupted.

"Leslie! Are you a ghost?" she asked.

Leslie laughed and shook her head. "Nope, I'm not a ghost."

"Am I having a dream?" was her next guess.

"I don't think so," Leslie replied.

"How do you know?" May belle asked.

Leslie reached out and pinched her friend's chubby little arm. She yelped in pain and rubbed the sore spot she had just received.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" she exclaimed.

Leslie smiled. "To prove that you're not dreaming," she replied, matter-of-factly.

May belle pouted. "Well it hurt! You didn't have to do that!"

Leslie laughed and smiled again. She apologized, then, and, scooping May belle up, she held her tight. Leslie found that it felt good to hold her friend; it felt to her as if she were one step closer to Jess.

May belle squirmed out of her grip after a few moments. Leslie rose to her full height and looked down at her. May belle smiled up brightly at the miraculous return of her "older sister."

Her face went sour then, and before Leslie could ask her what was wrong, she shouted into the evening air.

"Where have you been?!"

Leslie laughed. It was just the question she would have expected to hear from the stout little girl and before she could answer, she heard her ask another question.

"Does Jess know you're back? He's been going crazy without you."

Leslie put her hand to her heart. It was the most worrisome and, at the same time, the most endearing statement she had ever heard. It confirmed that Jess still considered her to be his friend and that he needed her at least as much as she needed him. She felt a lump rising in her throat and feared that she might not be able to hold back the tears she felt welling up inside of her and suddenly found that she was very grateful for the failing light hiding much of her blushing face.

"Why are you turning red, Leslie? Are you in love with my brother or something?"

Leslie rolled her eyes and looked down. She shook her head and said that she didn't even know what love was, so she couldn't really tell. May belle lost interest in their imagined romance and quickly set to asking her about where she had been all summer.

May belle stood, then, and crossed her arms, waiting for the answers. Leslie cleared her throat and began telling her of the many adventures that she had experienced while she was away.

"Well," she began, "after I fell into the river and hit my head, I washed downstream. Somebody pulled me out, and then I was captured and put to work on a farm, as a slave."

Leslie could see in the dim light of sunset that May belle's eyes had gone wide; she had no idea that the world outside Terabithia harbored such dangers. Leslie tried not to laugh and managed to maintain a tight-lipped smile as May belle's mouth hung agape in exasperation. She had trouble forming sentences for a moment, but she managed to ask at least one question about Leslie's imprisonment.

"Who captured you?"

Leslie smiled a little wider. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the moment that she had been planning. Containing her excitement, Leslie kept a straight face as she leaned down and delivered the truth, as she remembered it.

"A Wicked Witch," she hissed.

May belle gasped. "No way!" she exclaimed.

"That's right," Leslie replied. "I was held prisoner on the Wicked Witch's farm and made to work like a dog from sunup to sundown. I was a slave…"

She looked down again to make sure that May belle was paying attention as she embellished a little more.

"…A helpless slave under the lash."

May belle's eyes became wider with every sentence. She seemed to be completely enthralled by Leslie's tale of imprisonment and sorrow. She seemed to believe every single word.

"That sounds terrible!" she declared.

Leslie thought back to the memories of losing Mrs. Vanderholt and felt a tear roll down her cheek. "Yes, it was," she sniffled. She wiped away the tears and put on a brave face.

"But I escaped," she proudly declared. "And now I'm back."

May belle looked up at her in awe.

"How did you get away?"

Leslie smiled. "A handsome prince rescued me and brought me home."

"What's the prince's name?" May belle asked, immediately.

"Tom," Leslie sighed, wistfully, a giddy grin spreading across her blushing face.

May belle grinned, then, too. "Leslie's got a boyfriend," she began teasing.

Leslie could feel her cheeks heating and her face growing sour. She was half-tempted to kick the chubby little Aarons in the gut to stop her taunting. Leslie quickly reprimanded herself for having such an evil thought; she felt sick for even considering it.

May belle carried on her teasing for a few more minutes, and then stopped, suddenly; it looked to Leslie like she was trying to remember something important. Leslie decided to jog her memory with a pointed question.

"May belle," she asked. "What are you doing out here all alone? And where's Jess?"

May belle gasped then, as she appeared to remember.

She took off, running toward the tree house and Leslie followed.

As they arrived at the spot where they had encountered each other, Leslie caught sight of the paper caught on a branch, just as May belle reached for it. She grabbed it and carefully pulled the drawing free. Brushing it off gently, she smiled proudly and handed it up to Leslie.

Leslie took the picture and held it up in the failing light. It was astonishing.

In all her life, she had never seen anything quite so amazing. There she was, as a ghost, sleeping silently next to Jess, her head on his shoulder, with her arm draped across his belly. He appeared to be sleeping contentedly too, she noticed, and was not at all disturbed by her phantom presence. It was the most beautiful portrayal of herself that anyone had ever created and she thought she might cry from the sight of it.

Lowering the picture, Leslie looked down at the proud little girl standing in front of her. Leslie asked and May belle confirmed with a nod that the drawing was hers. Leslie felt honored to have been drawn in such a flattering way and she knew that Jess must have felt the same way when he saw the drawing.

She handed it back to her little friend, and, wiping away a tear, told her that it was the most beautiful drawing she had ever seen.

May belle thanked her and asked Leslie if she would help put it up in the tree fort so that Jess would see it. Leslie happily agreed. As they climbed into the fort, Leslie remembered all the fun that she and Jess had enjoyed in the old structure. It was almost like living the old times again. It was only a moment before May belle picked out the place for the drawing and asked Leslie to put it up for her. Leslie obliged and, soon, the drawing was in its place of honor on the wall of the palace.

May belle and Leslie smiled proudly at the finished work and finally made their out of the tree fort. They had just hit the ground when May belle told Leslie that she had missed her and that she didn't want her to go away ever again. Leslie hugged her and told her that she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was getting late and they both realized that they had better head for home. They set out towards the bridge together, hand in hand.

Just then they heard a voice calling out for May belle; Jess was coming and they both knew exactly what to do. Smiling at each other in that moment of shared thought, they each knew what the other was thinking.

"This is going to be so much fun," they both exclaimed as one.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Jess ran towards his kingdom as fast as he could. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath came in rapid pulls. As his legs burned with the effort of the strain he was putting on them, his mind raced in a thousand directions at once.

He couldn't believe this had happened. How could he have been so careless? He had only stopped to use the bathroom for a minute, and his kid sister had taken off for their kingdom all alone. He couldn't help but feel apprehensive as his mother had casually mentioned where May belle had gone, and why, before calling for him to come home soon, as dinner was almost ready.

He had been out the door before she could even finish her sentence.

Now he was running. He was moving so fast he couldn't even see the world around him as anything more than a blur of green in the fading light of dusk. He knew what he was running towards and he hoped that he wouldn't find what he feared would be there.

As he reached the edge of the forest, he slowed to a stop. The blood pounded in his head and the world dimmed as he caught his breath. He had to fight to remain conscious.

Listening carefully, Jess looked around the old entrance for any sign of his sister.

He called out to her, expecting nothing in particular, but as his echo faded, he heard her call back to him. Jess sighed in relief at the sound of his sister's voice; she was alive.

As he made his way quickly through the forest entrance, he detected the strangest scent: strawberries. His head was in a bit of daze as he walked over the fallen log, so he ignored the odd smell. It wasn't really important, anyway. All that mattered to him was finding his little sister and bringing her home safely.

He just hoped the frog-girl hadn't found her first.

All the way over, his greatest fear was that May belle had fallen into the creek and drowned, like Leslie had months before. Now his mind was gripped by a different kind of terror. If there was a frog-girl monster in his kingdom, and he was certain there was, he feared that it would gobble her up before he could find her.

Approaching the bridge, Jess felt the sense of dread growing inside of him. It was a feeling of trepidation he had not felt since the Dark Master had nearly consumed him. Jess swallowed hard at the sudden memory of how dangerous and scary Terabithia could be when you were all alone. It occurred to him, then, that May Belle was all alone.

Although the Dark Master had long since been driven out, and their magical land had enjoyed an unprecedented time of peace and prosperity, there were still some followers of the Dark Master who preyed upon the helpless and hopeless. Jess and May belle had done their best to exterminate them, but their efforts never seemed to end the problem. The monsters always seemed to creep back into their world, like moss after a heavy rainstorm.

Although May belle didn't understand why, Jess knew: Terabithia was a garden that required constant tending, lest the worshipers of the darkness be allowed to flourish in the absence of true nobility and strength.

Seeing the bridge and remembering the dangers that could still be waiting for him, he took a deep breath and shuddered. He didn't want to face this; not now.

As Jess steadied himself, he let memories of his time with Leslie fill his mind, giving him courage for the task ahead. He closed his eyes and let the thoughts of their friendship stir inside his soul.

Her strength became his, her courage became his, her comfort and support calmed his fears and gave him the clarity of purpose he needed. When he opened his eyes again, the bridge had been transformed.

And so had he.

Jess Aarons the Timid was replaced by Jess Aarons the Mighty, and as he took his first resolute steps into the Kingdom of Terabithia, he smiled. Nothing could harm him here. Nothing was beyond his ability to control. Nothing would ever be too much for him to handle. He was the King of this magical place and nothing here could ever surprise him.

As he walked across the stone bridge, he took in the sight of his magnificent kingdom. His heart pounded in his chest as he took a slow, deep breath of the cool evening air. He stopped to glance down at the baleful river and remembered what it had once cost him.

Ignoring the sudden flash of bitter anguish, he continued on his way into the world he now ruled; he had to find his sister.

He called out her name as he proceeded through his wooded kingdom, responding to the occasional returns. He soon found her near the tree house and was intent on scolding her, when he saw the look on her face. She looked like she was hiding something.

As he reached her, he glared down.

She smiled up at him.

"What are you so happy about?" he asked harshly, not really interested in the answer.

"Nothing," she replied, teasingly. Jess eyed her suspiciously. He noticed that she was twisting her fingers, as if in the unbearable grip of sweet anticipation. She was also glancing at the trees nearby. Jess glanced back at them, but noticed nothing of interest.

He didn't feel much like indulging her little game of "guess what" and decided to forgo the whole "silly-riddle-phase" and get her to tell him what she had found; probably just some pretty new rocks or flowers, he figured.

"I don't have time for your stupid guessing games, May belle!" he shouted. "We have to get home or Dad will kill us both."

May belle looked not only disappointed, but ready to cry, too. Jess realized that he must have been scolding her the same way his father had often scolded him, so he relaxed a little bit and sighed. Rubbing his eyes, he tried his best to reason with her. "You had me worried sick," he grumbled.

She seemed to calm upon hearing of his concern for her safety and she tried to explain herself. "I was just coming out here to put up the picture I drew of you," she mumbled.

Jess noted that she chose to end the sentence with the words "of you" in an effort to make _him_ feel guilty for what _she _had foolishly chosen to do.

He also noticed it worked.

"Look," he said, trying to remain calm, "I can't have you running out here all alone like this." He knelt down and looked her in the eye. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you. Do you understand?"

She nodded that she did.

"I don't want you coming here alone again, okay?"

"But I'm _not_ alone," she cheerfully corrected. "I'm with Leslie!"

The look on her face was absolutely pleasant and didn't fade, even as Jess could feel his own expression souring. His face heating, he leaned forward and scowled.

"That's not funny, May belle," he warned. "Not funny at all."

"I wasn't being funny, Jess," she protested. "Leslie really _is_ here with me!"

He didn't like what she was doing. It wasn't like her though; something was off. It was as if there was something different about the world. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but as he looked into the excited eyes of his little sister, he understood.

As it all became clear to him, he felt very ashamed of himself for being so insensitive.

"Oh, right," he whispered softly, his eyes near to brimming with tears. He put a hand to his chest. "Leslie's here with me, too."

He smiled down at his little sister and tried to give her a hug. To his surprise, she backed away. Her response perplexed him; she had never refused a hug from him before.

She shook her head emphatically. "No," she whined, frustration seeping into her voice. "She's really here, with me, right now!"

Jess didn't like this new game she was playing. It wasn't fun for him; not at all.

Terabithia was a place where you could be, or do, or say anything, but there were always limits. There always had to be limits; Leslie had taught him that.

Instead of trying to talk to her about the nature of appropriate pretending and end up lecturing her half the night, he decided to save their conversation for another time.

"Look," he said, grabbing her wrist, "We can talk about it on the way home. It's getting late, now let's go!"

He began dragging her and she fought to remain where she was.

"No," she shouted, "You don't understand, Jess! She's really here!" She pulled on his arm, trying to stop him as he dragged her along. "She's alive, Jess! Leslie's alive!"

"Enough!" he shouted as he whirled her around. "Stop talking about her! I've had enough of your mischief! Now move it or I'll drag you home by your underpants!"

The threat of the ultimate wedgie was enough to get her to stop struggling, but as he took her out of their kingdom, she looked back longingly toward the trees. He knew how she felt; he wanted to stay and think about Leslie, too.

Suddenly, she slipped her wrist out of his grip and took off toward the trees. Jess whispered a prayer to Leslie beseeching patience and started after her. As he bore down on her, she hooked around a tree and fell back. Going at full speed, he tripped over her and tumbled to the ground. He hit the leaves hard and grunted in pain. He would have to remember to thank his little sister for that little trip. A hand extended to help him up. He grabbed for it blindly and felt himself being pulled to his feet. The hand felt soft and warm. He realized that it must be his father, or maybe Brenda or Ellie, who had come looking for him. He expected a lecture as soon as his mind cleared.

As he rubbed his aching head, Jess could see his vision begin to focus. An image appeared before him.

His jaw dropped.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

It was Leslie.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"L-Leslie?"

Jess stared up at the phantom image of his former best friend. He couldn't breath. He felt dizzy. This wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible. But there she was, in her old clothes, the blue sleeveless over-shirt with the white Pegasus symbol on the front, her blue jeans with the symbols stitched into the denim in intricate designs, her high-tops with the laces done up and her old red coat, the one she was wearing the last day he had seen her; before she died.

In the fading light of twilight, he could just make out her face. It was really her: the blond hair, the bright eyes and warm smile telling him without words that everything was going to be okay. As his jaw hung low, unable to bring forth words, she grinned at him and spoke first.

"Hi, Jess!"

He rushed forward and hugged her. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he buried his head into the side of her neck and took a deep breath. As the wonderful scent of strawberries filled his nostrils, he began weeping. "Leslie!" he cried. "Oh, Leslie, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!"

"Jess," she squeaked, "I can't breathe!"

He relaxed his grip on her and felt her hand patting his back as she comforted him. "It's okay Jess," she whispered. "It's okay." He was dimly aware of the fact that the words spoken by his best friend were very similar to those his father had used to comfort him more than two months before, when he thought Leslie had died. He wept against her as she held him, still mumbling to her that he was sorry.

She whispered something that made him stop and pull back in shock.

"What?" he gasped. "What do you mean, you're married?!"

She giggled. "No, Jess!" She gave him a look that made him feel instantly stupid. "I just said that to get you to listen." She gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "I'm fine. Stop crying okay?" She made a sour face. "You look ridiculous."

He wiped away the tears and told her that he was sorry. He still couldn't believe she was there: alive, safe and smiling. He had for so long believed her dead that he was having difficulty accepting the reality that she wasn't. She looked almost exactly the same as he remembered her. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

Then she punched him.

He grabbed his shoulder as he cried out in pain. "What the heck was that for?"

She planted her fists on her hips as she scowled at him. "That was for letting me fall in the creek!"

He was about to again tell her how sorry he was, when he noticed the look on her face. It wasn't a glare, exactly. It seemed to him as if she was putting all her effort into trying not to laugh. Jess rubbed his shoulder as he thought up a clever retort.

"It's not my fault you're so clumsy!"

She broke into a broad grin and smacked his other shoulder. Then he laughed with her as the two friends embraced. They held each other unashamed for what must have been an hour before Jess felt something tug on his pant leg.

He looked down and smiled; he had forgotten all about his little sister.

"Not fair," she protested. "I want some Leslie too!"

Jess laughed and let her have her turn at hugging her "big sister." Jess clapped Leslie on the shoulder and smiled. There were a million things he wanted to ask her, a million things he wanted to tell her, but right then, words were too small. He settled for staring at her and taking in the scent of strawberries. He told her how much he missed the smell of her perfume.

She blinked at him. "Jess, "she scoffed, "I don't wear perfume."

"Oh." He stood there, studying his feet and feeling sheepish. "You just smell like strawberries," he told her. "For no reason, I guess."

Leslie laughed, the wonderful lifting sound of it filling the evening air. "I use shampoo, Jess. That's what makes my hair smell like strawberries."

Jess peered at her hair. It seemed longer. She had been gone for more than six weeks and he figured she must have let it grow out a little. It reached almost to her shoulders now. It did indeed smell of strawberries. Jess laughed his sudden understanding of everything. It all made sense. He understood now why he had been seeing her in the woods and smelling her scent: he had been encountering her the past few weeks. He also realized that he had fainted every time and he was grateful for the near darkness hiding his painful blush. She poked his cheek and asked him why he was turning so red. He hunched his shoulders and told her that he was just excited to see her again.

May belle started in with her old song about the two of them "sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." They both laughed at the memory of a simpler time. Then Jess glared down at her and she stopped. Then they laughed again. Jess felt so alive, so light-hearted, as if everything was alright. He was at peace. Nothing bothered him, not the mosquitoes biting at his neck, not the sticky, damp air, not even the darkness of the evening.

The evening…

Jess gasped. He slapped a hand to his forehead. He had completely forgotten why he had come. They had to get home for supper. If they were late, they would both get into more trouble they could get out of. He quickly looked down at his sister.

"May belle, we have to go, now!"

"Wow, Jess," Leslie cut in, "What's the rush?"

He looked back at her and grinned apologetically. "We're late for supper." He looked at the sky. "We should have been home an hour ago."

"You know, you're right. It is late. I think I might not make it home in time either." Leslie stepped out in front of him. "Let's see who can get home first."

Jess barely had time to talk her out of it before she hollered, _on your mark, get set, go!_

Then they were running, through the trees, across the meadows and onto the old dirt road that lead to both their homes. The sound of May belles' voice made them stop. She caught up to them, panting, telling them they shouldn't have left her behind and that she was scared in the woods all alone and that she would tell. Jess knelt down and hugged her, telling her that he was sorry and that they wouldn't do it again. He promised.

She thought it over. "Okay. But you owe me, Jess!" She pointed up at his best friend. "You owe me, too, Leslie!"

Leslie tried not to laugh as she nodded her consent. She promised to do something nice for her and that she was sorry too. Jess stood, taking the hands of his two most important girls and began walking home. He didn't think much about anything in particular; he just let the fact that Leslie was alive swim through his head. There were some things that still bothered him, though, like why Leslie hadn't come to him sooner, where she had been all the two months she had been gone, or if she had really died and how she had come back to life. He figured there would be time enough to find out later, that everything would fall into place and that it would all be okay.

As he looked into Leslie's smiling face, he was sure of it.

They stopped at the point between their two houses. Jess sent May belle on home, warning her in the strongest possible terms not to tell anyone what had happened. She had begun to object when he explained that it was going to be a great secret between the two of them. She liked that and agreed to keep the secret, crossing her heart and hoping to die. As May belle disappeared into the house, Leslie asked him if she could really be trusted to keep the secret of her return. Jess reminded her that she had kept the secret of Terabithia well enough. Leslie laughed and agreed. They hugged one last time.

"Will I ever see you again?" he asked.

Leslie giggled. "Of course you will. I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Are you sure? Last time I watched you leave, I lost you." His eyes found the ground as his vision blurred. "I honestly thought I'd never see you again."

She smiled warmly and Jess managed to smile back. Normally he didn't like telling people how he felt, but with Leslie, it was different; he felt he could tell her anything.

"Jess, I'm not going anywhere. I'll see you tomorrow."

He accepted her answer with one final hug. As she took off, jogging towards home, she stopped and turned back to him. She gave a bright smile and a little wave. Jess felt the shock of the memory flood his mind; it was just like the last time he had seen her. He determined to not let it be like last time and rushed up to her.

He leaned close, and whispered in her ear.

"I love you, Leslie."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I love you too, Jess."

Even in the coolness of the evening, he felt his face grow red hot. He was suddenly very grateful that he had sent May belle on home. He didn't want her going on about the two of them again. Alone on the old dirt road, with the light fading, they stood there, each smiling with the thrill of being reunited with their best friend. Jess hadn't meant that he was in love with her, just that he cared for her, like a sister. Leslie seemed to feel the same way about him, and as she ran off once again, Jess wondered if she really would return, or if he would suddenly wake from this wonderful dream.

Sighing contentedly, he started off towards home, the sweet scent of strawberries still lingering in the cool evening air.

Jess wondered what his family was having for dinner. He suddenly realized that he didn't care; anything they had would be wonderful.

Everything was wonderful.

Leslie was alive.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Jess laughed. He couldn't believe it. Leslie was alive! He wanted to talk to her, to ask her how she had returned, where she had been and what she was doing all the time she was gone. He would have to wait until tomorrow, he knew, but he was okay with that as long as he could spend time with her again. He could wait an eternity if he had too—in fact he had already waited for what seemed like forever for something he never thought would be possible. He would have time to speak with her, he would have time to tell her of his troubles and his pains and all the things he wished he had said. He would tell her he was sorry for leaving without her. She would forgive him. He was sure she would.

Terabithia would have its Queen back. Jess would have his friend back.

And May belle would still be the princess, under her teachings. The thought of them all being there together was beyond wonderful. He sighed as he reluctantly came out of his reverie. The sun finally set, at last relinquishing the world to the darkness of night. Jess knew they were late; he could see the lights on inside the house as they approached.

Jess caught May belle's arm. He spun her around and smiled at the chubby-faced scowl she gave him. Before she could ask what he was doing, he shushed her.

"We're going inside in a minute," he whispered, "But I don't want you telling anyone about Leslie."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to surprise them like she surprised me."

May belle smiled. Jess was relieved she agreed to his plan. He didn't know exactly what they would do; he just wanted to keep Leslie to himself for as long as possible. He gestured towards the house and looked up at the door, just as Brenda or Ellie—he wasn't sure which—stepped out and saw them. She looked back into the house and told them to "call off the search party," and that "they were coming."

Jess smiled as they made their way inside. He had just come around the corner when he saw his father sitting down at the table. He glared at them as they took their places.

"Where in God's name have you two been?"

Jess shared a look with May belle. She looked like she didn't know what to say, so Jess spoke for them both. "We, uh, we just got lost in the woods, that's all. And we had so much fun we forgot to come home."

May belle nodded that it was true. Their father started in on his food as it was served. "I don't want you two being late for supper." He passed some dishes as they were handed to him. "Your mother was getting worried."

"Sorry, daddy," May belle said. "But we had some important stuff to do."

"Really, now?" He looked pointedly to Jess. "Like what?"

Jess shrugged. "Just stuff." He shared a smile with his little sister. She was keeping quiet just like he wanted. He looked around the table. No one was eating. They were all just staring at him as if he had done something wrong. He sat down and started in on his food hoping everyone would just leave him be.

Then Brenda started in on him.

"You're so weird."

He smiled at her and thought of Leslie. "I know."

Normal life having returned, everyone forgot about Jess and talked of more important things. School and clothes were Ellie and Brenda's conversation, as well as boys and how they never called. Jess glanced to May Belle. She kept winking at him. He wished she would stop; he knew either someone would notice or he would laugh and get caught with soda coming out of his nose. He suspected that might be what she wanted.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways. Mother cleared the table and made Ellie help with the dishes. Brenda tried to sneak off before she could be enlisted, but was caught and told to dry. Jess took May Belle went up to their room. They had homework to do, but most of all, they wanted to talk about Leslie.

As soon as the door closed, Jess started in on May belle, asking her how she knew Leslie was back. He was surprised to discover she had been back for a while, as May told him they had been hanging out together. He knew Leslie had been the girl he had found on the bridge and that she had been sneaking around in the guise of the frog-girl all this time. He had been so stupid! His best friend came back from the dead and he hadn't even known. He asked May belle everything he could think to ask.

"Okay, how did she come back?"

May Belle shrugged.

"Where has she been all this time?"

"On a farm." May Belle answered. "She got caught by a witch."

He looked at her like he didn't believe it.

"It's true!" she complained. "Leslie told me so!"

He sighed and let it go. He figured he could ask Leslie herself the next day. It was a Saturday and they would get to spend the whole day together. He still had so many questions. One thing still bothered him though…

"May Belle, why didn't Leslie come home? Or call us so we know she was all right?"

Her answer was another shrug.

"Alright, we'll ask her tomorrow." He yawned. "Let's just get our homework done and go to bed. The sooner we sleep, the sooner we can see Leslie again."

The night passed slowly, Jess still thinking about Leslie, about where she might have been and why she had taken so long to come home. He thought of her parents, Bill and Judy, and whether or not they knew their girl was alive.

_My_ _girl_, Jess thought. Leslie belonged to him, after all. She had always been his. He had given her over to the loving arms of God, but she had been returned to him at last.

As he faded off to sleep, his last thoughts were of Leslie and how he would never let her go again.

* * *

The next day was beautiful. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and everything about the world seemed right. Jess was up and dressed before everyone else. His father was on his way out and Jess promised to get his chores done before he went out to play. He didn't now how he would get them all done, excited as he was. He thought maybe he should wake up May belle and let her help, but after a moment, he realized she would be more of a bother than anything.

Being awake so early on a Saturday was a rare experience for Jess; he had not bothered to get out of bed so early since he was May belle's age. He knew she would be awake soon too and he needed to move fast if he was to get away; he wanted to be alone with Leslie for a while. He hurried through all his chores and even skipped breakfast, heading off to Leslie's house as soon as he was finished.

He arrived at the yard with a smile on his face, slowing as he approached. The last time he was in the Burke's yard, there was a pile of lumber he used for the bridge and the time before that several strange cars were parked in rows. He had not actually been inside her house since her memorial service. It had been the worst weekend of his entire life.

All that seemed a lifetime ago. Now he was returning in triumph to visit his friend. He skipped up the steps and knocked on the door.

Nothing happened.

He knocked again, harder. He thought he saw movement through the curtains. He was just about to knock a third time when a dark form slid up to the door. He backed away as it came open and he suddenly found a large woman standing before him.

She waited for him to say something.

"Uh…hi," he managed. He didn't know what else to say.

The woman regarded him a moment. He stared up at her as she examined him. Her hair was brown, tied up tight in a bun and her lips were red, thick with lipstick. Jess wondered if she might be Leslie's aunt.

Her voice was pleasantly calm.

"Can I help you?"

He shifted his weight and scratched his head. Where was Leslie? He thought maybe he had dreamed she was back and if so, he was acting very foolish. He thought maybe should explain what he was doing here at such an early hour.

"Uh, I live across the street and…" He turned to point only to find the view of his house obscured by the trees framing the Burke's front yard. He lowered his arm, feeling even more stupid and tried again. "I'm sorry, um… I was just—"

The woman brightened suddenly as if she realized something. "You must be Jess!" She took up his hand. "My name's Ann Marie. Leslie's told us so much about you."

Jess almost laughed. "You know Leslie?"

The woman did laugh. "Of course I know her! She talks about you all the time. Come in," she said "come in, she should be awake by now."

Jess walked through the double doors and into the kitchen. The scent of pancakes was thick in the air. "You caught me in the middle of making breakfast," Ann Marie explained.

He apologized as he looked around. Not much had changed. The furniture was what he remembered; the round table was still there, along with all the chairs. He stopped near the table, thinking about how long it had been since he had been in the house.

Often times he would pass by the lonely place on his way home from school. He would stop in the road and just stare at it. He knew Leslie was gone and would never come back. He also knew that he was standing in the exact spot where she had begun the race that would eventually take them to their kingdom. It was also the spot he occupied the day he left her. May belle called to him, shouting that she wanted to go home. He shrugged off the cobwebs and trotted down the road after her, only stopping once to look back. He thought he would never enter the big Burke house again.

Now he was standing in the kitchen, waiting for Leslie. He wasn't prepared for what would come; how could he possibly be ready for something like this? He looked into the living room, and his eyes fell on the wall they had painted together. It was still golden, still beautiful. He wandered into the room and took a deep breath. The last time he had entered this sanctum was the worst day of his entire life.

He remembered well the feeling of loss, the sensation of wandering. He remembered Leslie's father rising to meet him. The feeling of his hug was still there, along with the pain of his words.

_She loved you, you know. Leslie… she never had much luck making friends at her old school. We were hoping when we moved out here we could… Jess, you're the best friend she's ever had. I want to thank you for that._

He remembered the strange sense of anger at what he said and the bitter thoughts he dared not express. _You brought her out here and she died. You should have stayed where it was safe. Then she would be alright. She'd be alive. It's all your fault!_

He couldn't say that of course. He knew it wasn't really Bill's fault. Jess knew he had let Leslie die. It was his burden to bear. He couldn't place it on anyone else. As if to drive the point home, he caught sight of Ms. Edmunds a moment later. She had taken him on that awful trip when he left Leslie behind.

She tried to speak to him, but all she could do was whisper was his name. He spoke instead.

_Next time, we should invite Leslie to go. She'd like that._

The next days were even harder. Living without Leslie wasn't really living at all. He found that everywhere he went all he heard was the sound of silence. It felt as if his heart had been pierced and his spirit had seeped out through the wound.

It was as if his whole life, Leslie had been the one to make things count.

With her gone, nothing mattered.

Even Terabithia was lost. The old tree house stood empty. Leslie had given it life; when she left, it was a dead place.

His thoughts tumbled over and over in his mind. He thought of everything he went through, knowing he would have to recount it for his best friend. He briefly considered leaving out the part about crying in the woods, thinking she had gone to hell. He would have enough to tell her without worrying about her thinking he was some kind of wimp.

"Would you like some pancakes, dear?"

He turned to look up at Ann Marie. He tried to decline her offer, but his stomach answered for him. She smiled at the grumble it made and showed him to the table.

As the pancakes were served, Jess thought to fill the silence. "So… how do you know Leslie?"

"Oh, I met her a few weeks ago. She came here to stay with me and my brother." Ann Marie leaned in and began to whisper. "We didn't know who she was, really. We thought she was just an orphan with no memories." She laughed lightly. "It was a great surprise when we found out who she really was."

Now he knew why she had taken so long to come home. She had forgotten who she was, probably from the bump on her head she received when she felt. He imagined it was quite a surprise when she remembered who she was. Jess thought about how surprised he had been when Leslie had returned. He understood perfectly. He honestly never thought he would see her again and there she was, jumping out from the trees, scaring him something fierce. He thought he was dreaming, but she really was back. He wondered where she was right then.

The pancakes distracted him and as he started in on them, Ann Marie set down a glass of juice, telling him Leslie would be down to see him soon. He thought about going up to see her, but as hungry as he was, he decided to wait for her. She'd be down and they'd be together; he needed a little time to sort out some things anyway.

The warm taste of hot buttered pancakes filled his mouth, the sweet syrup running down his throat as he chewed. Jess loved pancakes. He wondered if Leslie liked them too. He would have to remember to ask her when she arrived.

He was half way through his second plate when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing from the stairs. Leslie was coming. He stood up in time to see her on her way down for breakfast. She looked wonderful.

Jess eyes took in the faded blue jeans and deep blue shirt, the tousled blond hair and warm smile of his best friend. Then she noticed him and her smile widened.

"Jess!"

She rushed down the stairs and gave him a hug. He stood there, just holding her for a long moment. Leslie looked into his eyes, smiling that wonderful smile of hers. Then she noticed the pancakes and before he could say anything, she took up his fork and munched his next flapjack.

He stood watching her, not really wanting to protest. Ann Marie set a plate for her and tossed on a few pancakes. She licked the syrup off her lips and plopped down opposite him. Juice was served and they both laughed and started eating, neither really knowing what to say, except pass the butter.

The morning was quiet, Jess enjoying the pancakes, but enjoying watching Leslie enjoy them even more. He was so happy. He could remember the last time he had pancakes and thought about her. His mother had made them the day after he had learned Leslie was gone. He had felt so lost, so unsure; he didn't know what he would do.

Now he knew.

He would take Leslie back to Terabithia.

But first they would have more pancakes.

Ann Marie set them down and Jess drank some juice to clear his throat. He looked at Leslie and decided the time had come for some answers. He tried to ask Leslie something but she asked at the same time and they both laughed.

"You go first," she told him.

He nodded and asked what he had wanted to ask for a long time. "Leslie," he began, "where have you been?"

She chewed her pancakes and appeared to think about it. She smiled and gestured with her fork. "Upstairs."

He didn't laugh, so she began again, more serious.

"I was lost."

She seemed to be staring off to places Jess couldn't see as he asked, "Where were you lost?"

She took a sip of juice and started again. "I was on a farm in North Carolina, just over the border." She got a silly looking grin and added, "Tom found me in the creek and pulled me out."

Jess frowned. "Who's Tom?"

Ann Marie answered the question as she sat down. "He's my brother. He worked on the farm where Leslie was staying."

He looked from her back to Leslie. "Why didn't you ask to come home?"

"She didn't remember who she was, or where she came from," Ann Marie answered again. Leslie fixed her with an annoyed glare. Ann Marie shrugged and went to check on something. Leslie sighed and went back to talking.

"I hit my head when I fell in the creek. It blocked out my memory, otherwise I would have come straight home."

Jess sighed. "Whoa. That must have been rough, not knowing who you were and all." He scratched his head. "At least you're home now."

She smiled at that and asked what he had been doing all summer.

He cleared his throat and, lowering his voice so Ann Marie wouldn't hear, told her a few things. "Ah, well, May belle's the princess now and all…"

"I know," she said. "I saw her."

"Why did you make us think you were the frog girl?"

She shrugged. "It just seemed like something fun to do."

"Well, it wasn't fun thinking you were dead."

She seemed to slump a little. "Oh, yeah," she whispered, "Sorry about that…"

He accepted her apology. He figured he better tell her the rest of what had happened while she was away. He told her of her funeral and what her parents said. She seemed a little embarrassed when he told her about her father's declaration of love. He told her how lonely he felt without her and how empty the school seemed when she was gone. He finished by telling her what Mrs. Myers said about losing her husband, saying he punched Scott Hoager for making fun of her and finally, building the bridge to honor her memory.

"Wow," she said. "You miss a lot when you're dead."

"You miss people who're dead even more," he assured her.

"Well, I'm back now, okay? You don't have to miss me anymore."

He wanted to say something else but Ann Marie came back and started clearing their plates. Jess stood and offered to help, but she refused. He sat back down but Leslie stood and asked him to go for a walk with her. He readily agreed.

Waving goodbye to Ann Marie, they made their way out to the road and started talking again. Leslie told him what it was like on the farm and Jess told her of the adventures he and May belle had in Terabithia.

They were heading back there now and both wore smiles as they strode through the sunlight.

Neither of them ran to the woods; they wanted to talk. Leslie asked how things had faired in their kingdom while she was away. He told her honestly that things had been good, but they hadn't always been easy. He told her about how the dark master had tried to take the Kingdom in her absence. She apologized again and tried to change the subject. Jess beat her to it.

"So have you heard from your mom and dad?"

She stumbled a bit on the rough ground. "Yes and no. They're coming home from wherever they were, but I don't know when." She glanced back and thought for a moment. "They could be here tomorrow."

Jess like the sound of that; he liked Leslie's parents. They were always kind to him and made him feel appreciated. He was eager to see them again and to see Leslie reunited with them. Everything would be all right. He was sure of it.

They entered the woods laughing, Jess having told her a joke he never thought he would get to tell her. As they entered the forest, they fell silent. Jess picked up a pine cone and hurled it, considering it a tradition of sorts. He hadn't walked this path with Leslie since she was lost. He was so happy to be bringing her back to the Kingdom she had created. They were almost there, so he took the lead.

"This way," he said, as if she needed to be reminded.

He helped her up onto the fallen log and she followed him quietly the rest of the way.

They stopped in front of the bridge.

He watched her staring at it, savoring the look of pride she wore. He knew he was the source of that pride and he hoped he could enjoy it for a few more minutes. She looked to him then and smiled. "You made this, didn't you." It didn't sound like a question.

He nodded.

"Thank you for remembering, Jess."

He didn't understand. "Remembering what?"

She pointed to the shield at the top of the bridge, to the sign that read: _Nothing Crushes Us._ She grinned at him. "Thank you for remembering me."

He smirked as he shrugged. "How could I ever forget you, Leslie?"

He stepped up onto the bridge and took her hand, leading her in. They walked together, slowly entering a world of their making. They let the magic flow, transforming the bridge and forest ahead of them into something more beautiful than anything made by man.

The great trees themselves bent back their branches in greeting to their queen. The Terabithians filtered through the woods on either side of the path and filled the road ahead, all cheering the return of their beloved creator.

They stepped off the bridge as the giant troll came forward, bearing two crowns on her giant troll hands. As she stooped low before them, she gingerly placed them on the heads of the King and Queen of Terabithia.

The shared a look, both smiling as the troll backed away and extended her arm in introduction to their kingdom. The sound of the crowds was deafening, the applause telling Leslie what Jess had wanted to say since finding her again.

Welcome home, fair Queen.

Welcome home.


End file.
